


Detroit: Become Family -Connor

by UnifiedNations



Series: Detroit: Become Family [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda (Detroit: Become Human) Being an Asshole, Child Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Chloe is Connor's mom, Chloe is the BEST mom, Connor loves sharks, Emotional support dog Sumo, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank relates, Human AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, No Androids, Protective Hank Anderson, Rated for swearing, She loves Connor so much, Suicidal Thoughts, Sumo is the best dog, The Traci's, tags will be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-06-26 07:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15658146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnifiedNations/pseuds/UnifiedNations
Summary: When Lieutenant Anderson is called to a crash site under a bridge he didn't expect the case to escalate quite this much. What starts with a car crash turns into a rescue mission and by the end of it Hank gains a reason to live again.Rated teen for language, implied/reference child abuse and Amanda being evil.





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KottaKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KottaKitty/gifts).



> As promised, this is Connor's story from my series 'Detroit: Become Family.' 
> 
> Buckle up kiddos, this is gonna be a rollercoaster. Warnings for child abuse, kidnapping, psychological/emotional abuse (implied) and Amanda being a nasty person in general.
> 
> In this series I made Chloe Connor's mom because she is wonderful and I love her, which then made me sad as she didn't last very long. I hate killing characters just to progress the story but I went through three different versions to kick this off and this seemed like the best one.

“ _Dispatch to Lieutenant Anderson, your presence is requested at a crash site under the bridge near...”_

 

“Christ, all I want is five fucking minutes...” Hank grumbled, shoving his bag of food onto the passenger seat before taking up his radio. “Anderson, what’s the situation.”

 

“ _One female DOA, mid-twenties, run off the road by another driver while crossing the junction. Found some strange files in the passenger seat the attending EMTs want you to take a look at.”_

 

“Strange how?” Hank replied, pulling out of his parking space.

 

“ _Attending paramedics say DOA’s named Chloe Hostes, college student, got a bunch of files on a missing kid from a few years ago and a shit tonne of research. They haven’t looked too far into it but found it suspicious enough to call in a cop so...”_

 

“Great. Fuckin’ fantastic,” He muttered, noting the address and pulling out of the parking space. It was rare that he got called to a ‘suspected’ homicide, but apparently it was suspicious enough to need the lieutenant to take a look. When he arrived there was an ambulance with two paramedics in outside with the yellow lights slowly rotating. Hank pulled up on the other side of the street and he slammed the door shut after exiting, approaching the paramedics.

 

“Wanna tell me what’s so suspicious about an accident that you interrupt my first break in seven hours?” He asked gruffly, standing in front of them with his arms crossed. The cold breeze hit him and he shivered, only worsening his mood.

 

The male paramedic, in his thirties with short brown hair, held out a thick binder to him.

 

“We found this in the passenger seat. The victim in that car,” He nodded to the small car with a large dent in the side and the front caved in from impact with a bridge pillar. “Chloe, she died on impact. Nothing we could do, but this was open on the seat and it looks like it’s about a missing kid. I dunno if the accident is connected to this but y’know, that’s your job.” He shrugged, looking at his watch. “Dispatch is sending people to take the car apart, we can’t get her out with it like that. Alex had to climb through the back window to check her pulse and she saw the photos then grabbed the binder.” He gestured to the female paramedic who nodded, trying to light a cigarette.

 

Hank took the binder and flicked it open to a page with a photo. He approached the car where it still sat by the impact site, the poor girl’s body still inside. He could tell that she was pretty, and young, with long blonde hair and soft features. A glance at the photo in the binder told him that she was the same woman featured in it, but in the photo she was holding a small boy around three years old. The photo had a small label underneath that read ‘Connor’s 3rd birthday’. They looked happy.

 

Shit, why did he always get dragged into situations like this.

 

Flicking through the pages of the binder, he was surprised by how professional and well put together it looked. If he didn’t already know that Chloe had been a psychology student he would have guessed that she was a PI with the amount of detailed research, surveillance (likely illegal) and note taking in it.

 

“Oh shit- detective!” Alex, the female paramedic called, waving him over. He snapped the binder shut and approached her. “Sorry, nearly forgot. This was on the seat with the binder, it looks like a journal. We haven’t looked at it.” She held out a dark grey journal to him.

 

“Thanks.” Hank took it, opening it to a page that folded out almost immediately. It looked like some kind of timeline, like the ones kids would make in school for history class. A few dates were bolded and stood out more than the rest so Hank took in those first.

 

Turning the journal so he could read it better under the streetlamp, Hank almost jumped in surprise when an envelope fell out of it. He stooped and picked it up, reading the neat cursive on the front.

 

It read ‘ _If something should happen to me, please read this.’_

 

Why was everything so damn cryptic, Hank thought as he opened the envelope. Chloe’s death seemed like a good reason to do so in his opinion.

 

_My name is Chloe. I love my son more than anything. I don’t want to sound like a cliché, but if you are reading this it means that something has happened to me._

 

_On the 27 th January 2006, I left my three-year old son Connor with my university professor. It was a temporary arrangement as my only other friend at the time could not care for him and I had to leave for another state to take care of my estranged parent’s funerals after they died in a car accident. I respected Professor Stern immensely and had always trusted her. It was my mistake._

 

_When I came to retrieve my son from her care, she acted like he had never existed in the first place. She made out like I was insane and had made him up, using my past emotional problems as a teenager to make this seem plausible and threatened to call the police when I became angry._

 

_Amanda Stern is a very clever and intimidating woman. She hides her borderline psychopathic personality under layers of lies, gaining everyone’s trust while manipulating them. I didn’t realise that she had been emotionally pushing me to leave Connor with her until I came home and found she had all but wiped his existence from everyone’s lives. She says that she has friends in high places who can make everything I say sound like lies._

 

_For a while I thought she had killed him, that Connor had had an accident and she panicked, but I have been following her life since and have discovered that Connor_ **still lives with her** _. I’ve seen him in photos of charity galas that she attends, at psychology ward openings she puts on a human face for. From what I have heard, she uses him to gain sympathy. She claims that a damaged young woman left him with her to care for and then abandoned him. She is fucking wrong, and I will make everyone see what she really is._

 

_I will not stop until I get my baby back. I will not back down, no matter who she threatens to send after me. She can send lawyers, thugs, she could send a hitman to my door and I will not stop._

 

_I will get my son back. I promise you, Connor._

 

There was a line break in the writing before it started again a few inches down, in a slightly hurried scrawl.

 

_If something happens and I cannot save him then please. Please help my son._

 

Hank looked over at the crushed car that held Chloe’s body. God, he hated it when cases struck a chord but he couldn’t help but feel it hard with this one. Both he and Chloe had been alone, the only person in their lives a son who they loved more than anything. And then they had both had it taken away.

 

This whole thing sounded… insane. A university professor taking one of her student’s kids then apparently wiping his existence from everyone’s lives? It was possible that Chloe was just unhinged and had fabricated the whole scenario, but the level of detail in the folder with the dates and the surveillance notes (still likely illegal), it couldn’t all be made up. And if there really was a little boy under the care of a woman who this girl labelled as borderline psychopathic… he had to at least look into it. Plus if she really had just refused to give him back then it did technically count as kidnapping, which was of course a criminal offence and one that he could likely get a warrant to search her house on.

 

Hank made up his mind. He folded the letter away and pulled out his phone, calling the station.

 

“Detroid PD, Detective Collins.”

 

“Ben, thank fuck. Thought I was gonna get Reed for a second there.”

 

“Anderson? I thought you were on break?” Ben replied, sounding confused.

 

“Yeah, Dispatch called me to a scene and I thought fuck it. Do me a favour, could you look up the name ‘Hostes, Chloe’ and then look for anything about a son?” Hank asked, looking down at the journal.

 

“Uh, sure. Hang on.” There was a few seconds of silence where all Hank could hear was the loud clicking of keyboard keys. “Chloe Hostes, 27, single child, parents are both deceased, has one son by the name of Connor, age six. No father listed on the birth certificate.”

 

Hank frowned.

 

“Any info on the kid?”

 

“Uh… Huh. No, there’s only his name and medical records up to three years ago. He was registered at a daycare then just stopped attending by the looks of it, nothing on him since.” The concern in Ben’s voice became more apparent. “Has something happened to them?”

 

“Yeah, but it’s really fuckin’ weird. Apparently Chloe’s university professor basically kidnapped her kid when he was three and was gonna make it look like Chloe was insane if she went to the cops. Found a journal with more info than a case file about it, I reckon Chloe was trying to make a case against her so she could get her kid back.”

 

“Wait, was?”

 

Hank suddenly realised he’d left out that rather major detail.

 

“She died about an hour ago. Car accident.”

 

For a moment, all he could hear was Ben breathing on the other end of the phone.

 

“Hank. Maybe you should give this case to someone else.”

 

“The fuck I should, it’s my case.” Hank immediately felt offended, although deep down he knew why Ben was saying this.

 

“Look, Hank, I know you’ve gotta relate to this girl in some way-”

 

“Collins, shut it.” He ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Yeah, I relate. But I’m not doing this for- for my boy. I’m doing it for Chloe. I’m going to her apartment and then I’m gonna talk to this professor. See you later.” With that, he hung up. Even without a warrant, which could take all night, he could still hopefully get a read on this Professor Stern.

 

~*~*~

 

Entering the apartment of a dead person always had always a strange feeling.

 

It wasn’t something you’d think about until you did it but Hank always noticed, especially since Cole- since his son died. He still wasn’t able to go into his son’s room without having a breakdown afterwards, even three years later.

 

All the lights were off in Chloe’s apartment. The curtains in the living room and kitchen were open and there was a stack of unopened mail by the front door, as well as a phone charger still plugged in at the wall. Hank moved to the living room first and switched the light on, noticing that the living room was fairly plain- a sofa and armchair sat by the wall opposite a small TV, next to which was a short bookcase with DVDs and books on. Several of the DVDs were children’s films or shows that he recognised from at least a few years ago.

 

There was a laptop and notebook next to eachother on the coffee table in the centre of the room and Hank took photos of both before picking them up and placing them in a bag to take back to the station. There was also a tablet that unlocked when Hank pressed the ‘on’ button on the side and immediately opened to a video. He hesitated for a moment before pressing play.

 

The video opened to a slightly younger Chloe, bundled up in winter gear and holding Connor in her arms. They were outside at night time, snow falling steadily around them. Chloe in-video smiled, turning to face Connor- whoever was holding the camera was doing so from a few feet away. The boy in question had mittened hands over his eyes.

 

“ _Okay Connor, are you ready?”_ She asked, seemingly unable to stop smiling. _“And… open!”_

 

Connor uncovered his eyes and looked around, a matching smile immediately finding place on his face.

 

“ _Welcome to Pirate Island, me hearties! You’re gonna have a whale of a time!”_ A man’s voice came from behind the camera and Chloe laughed, waving at the camera. “ _Have a very happy birthday, young man!”_

 

“ _Thank-you, Jerry.”_ Chloe replied, laughing again when she looked back at Connor to find him frozen in excitement.

 

Hank could feel his heart aching for this poor girl. He could fucking feel how much she loved her son through this short video that gave barely a glimpse into her life and she’d had it all taken away.

 

It was feeling far too familiar.

 

“ _No problem miss! You want anything else just let me know, y’hear?”_ The phone was handed over and Chloe turned it into selfie-mode.

 

“ _Happy birthday, sweetheart.”_ Chloe pressed a kiss to Connor’s cheek, smiling softly at him. It seemed to break the little boy out of his trance and he twisted in her arms, throwing his arms around her neck.

 

“ _I love you mommy!”_

 

The video ended.

 

Hank closed his eyes for a second, the words bringing back the memory of a boy the same size, sprinting towards him and jumping into his arms, shouting ‘ _I love you daddy!”._

 

He took a moment to compose himself so he wouldn’t have a fucking breakdown in a dead girl’s apartment.

 

Entering the hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the door with a colourful sign on that read ‘CONNOR’. It was very similar to the one on his own son’s room door and he swallowed, hesitantly reaching out and twisting the nob.

 

The walls were covered in dark blue wallpaper with faint patterns on and was bordered with a sea life pattern. The bed had a lighter blue duvet on with a toy shark sitting on top and the tiny desk in the corner had several photos on it, one of which he immediately recognised as a frame from the video- where Chloe was holding Connor, his face full of wonder at the amusement park ahead of him. A stack of children’s books- several focusing on the sea, Hank noticed a theme building here- were beside them, as well as a note in an envelope addressed to Connor. He picked this up, putting it in the bag. It wasn’t for him to read, and he would give it to Connor when he was found.

 

Connor would be found.

 

He took the shark from the bed, putting it in the same bag as the laptop, before searching Chloe’s bedroom, the kitchen and the bathroom. He then decided the job was done and sent a text to Ben asking for the address of Professor Amanda Stern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it so far! Now for context.
> 
> I realise that what Amanda is doing here sounds really weird, but the basis of it is that although there have been psychological experiments done on children in the past, those are generally completely illegal now. However, Amanda wanted to try it and how better than to emotionally manipulate one of your students at a bad point in her life into letting you 'care' for her child for a while? However, Chloe was not letting go that easy. Amanda had the high ground as she is a very well respected professor with very well respected friends, who could easily stand against Chloe should she try to get her son back. I hope this makes sense.
> 
> Jokes on you Amanda, now you have an angry protective police detective after you as well. Don't mess with the parents in this series.
> 
> I have a few chapters of this written already which I'll probably post quite quickly as I have zero self control, so updates may be a little sporadic but I'll do my best! Please bear with me. In the mean time I'm still working on Detroit City Highschool, as well as a few one shots for this series and other AU's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank goes to interview Professor Amanda Stern and finds more than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings for child abuse/neglect and Amanda being the worst.

Hank sighed as he pressed a finger on the buzzer of the ornate house in front of him. It looked like a small mansion, with more windows on the front of the house than were on every side of his own and a large zen garden surrounding it.

 

“Guess being a professor pays well.” He muttered to himself, stepping back from the door and looking around. One of the officers – Officer Ramiro, he vaguely remembered- who’d accompanied him in a squad car stood behind him, staring at a weirdly calm pond near the front door as the other remained in the car.

 

A few moments passed before the door opened and Professor Stern stepped out, already seemingly sizing him up.

 

“Professor Stern? I’m Lieutenant Anderson with the DCPD, ‘m here to ask you a few questions about Chloe Hostes.”

 

Professor Stern’s eyes seemed to bore into him and Hank fought the urge to shift on his feet. It wasn’t often that a suspect managed to unnerve him but there was something about this woman that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

 

“I knew Chloe. She was a pupil in my psychology course for several years before she dropped out.” She replied flatly, eyes moving from Hank to Ramiro, then back again. “What is this about?”

 

“Look, this isn’t really a conversation for the doorstep. Mind if we come in?” Hank gestured to the inside of the house.

 

Professor Stern looked him up and down before opening the door wider.

 

“Very well. Has something happened?” She asked, turning and entering the house. She lead them to the living room which looked at neat and sterile as the garden and hallway had. It felt almost like a hospital, all white walls and stark lights.

 

Hank already hated it.

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but Chloe died in a car accident earlier this evening.” He stated, standing by the white leather sofa instead of sitting down. It almost felt like he’d dirty it just by being near it, let alone sitting on it.

 

“How unfortunate. She was a smart girl. Such a shame.” Stern said, although the words were said with an air of nonchalance. “Why have you come to tell me? I haven’t seen the girl in, say...”

 

“Three years?” Hank interrupted, not sorry in the slightest when Stern narrowed her eyes at him in offence. “She had some… interesting information on her when she died. About a missing boy, her son. According to her, she left him with you three years ago for ‘a short time’ to sort some stuff out and ever since, you haven’t let her see him.”

 

“Well that is strange-” Stern began, but Hank wasn’t finished.

 

“Which is weird, because we couldn’t find _any_ records of Connor living with you. Or anywhere else, for that matter, and no-one’s seen him since.”

 

The professor smiled at him thinly.

 

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen or heard from Chloe or her son since she dropped out of my class, and I’m going to have to ask you to-”

 

“Oh so this isn’t him? Next to you at the opening of the new building of the university you work at?” Hank slipped a photo from the folder he was holding- Chloe’s folder- and held it out to her. It was a press shot from said night, of Professor Stern in a formal gown next to a small boy. She had what looked like a firm grip on his shoulder and was looking down at him as he looked down and away, seemingly scared or nervous. “Looks an awful lot like Connor to me and I don’t even know the kid-”

 

There was a quiet thump from upstairs and both Hank and Professor Stern looked up, the woman’s face sharply contorting into anger before smoothing out again, under seemingly impeccable control.

 

“Anyone upstairs?” Hank asked, eyes meeting Amanda’s just as the expression faded.

 

“No. I live alone.” She said levelly, as if daring him to challenge her.

 

Hank didn’t like backing down from a challenge.

 

“Mind if I check it out? Won’t take a minute.” He stood firm, eyes not wavering for a second. Amanda sighed, gesturing to the stairs.

 

“By all means.” She sat on the couch, back perfectly straight and hands clasped in her lap as she watched him exit the room. It was unnerving.

 

As Hank approached the top of the stairs he couldn’t help but notice the faint smell of bleach that lingered in the hallway, becoming stronger as he passed and checked the bathroom. Only one of the doors in the hall was ajar so he headed for it, slowly pushing it open and turning on the light.

 

The room itself was nondescript, with plain walls and a single bed up against the wall with the duvet crumpled back as if someone had hurriedly jumped out of it. The window was closed and bolted shut, he noticed, and there was a pencil pot and a pile of what looked like schoolwork books on the otherwise empty desk. A chair that had previously sat next to the desk was tipped over on the floor.

 

A shuffling noise came from the wardrobe built into the wall and Hank spun around, one hand reaching for his gun. He approached the wardrobe slowly, reaching out and wrenching the door open to point his gun at the contents.

 

“Shit- fuck-” He cursed, hurriedly tucking away the gun and crouching low on the ground.

 

In the corner of the thin walk-in closet there was a small child, curled up with their head on their knees which were tucked up to their chest. At the sudden noise the child looked up, looking fearful.

 

It was Connor. Hank was sure of it. The boy in front of him was older than the child in Chloe’s videos but his estimated age matched- Connor was three when he was ‘taken’, he would be six now.

 

“Connor?” Hank asked quietly, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. The little boy’s eyes stayed fixed on him fearfully and he stayed curled up, hands tucked between his legs and his chest. “I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson with the Detroit Police. You okay?” There was no reply as Connor sat and shivered, keeping his hands sandwiched between his legs and chest. “Mind if I see what you’re holding?”

 

Connor’s eyes darted down to his hands and he stiffly untucked his knees from his chest, holding his hands out. His left hand was sloppily wrapped in white bandages and looked like Connor had tried to bandage them himself.

 

Hank slowly reached forward and shifted the loose bandages, fighting back a long string of curse words as he took in the state of the little boy’s hand. It was covered in red weeping sores, some of his skin around the marks peeling back. Connor stayed frozen in place, eyes fixed on his knees.

 

“Oh… shit, kid,” Hank whispered, sitting down heavily on his backside. “That looks like it hurts a lot.”

 

Connor’s bottom lip wobbled and he gave a small nod, eyes beginning to well up with tears.

 

“Did Amanda do this to you?” He asked quietly, fighting the urge to charge downstairs and throw the woman out of a window.

 

Connor shook his head, trembling.

 

“I did it.” He whispered. “I- I did a bad thing so she said to clean the bathroom and-” He cut himself off with a gasp, curling his arms back to his chest. “And I dropped the- the cleaning stuff-”

 

Hank felt… it was hard to describe. Furious? Sad? He settled on livid with a side of wanting to crawl into a bottle and die.

 

“Connor… I’m sorry she made you do that.” What else could you say to an abused crying six year-old? “Tell you what- how about you come with me and we’ll get your hand seen to? I know some real nice paramedics who can help you out. How does that sound?”

 

There was a few moments of silence before Connor nodded, slowly getting to his feet. He wobbled as he made to leave the closet and Hank reached out to steady him, completely thrown off when Connor stumbled into his arms, wrapped his arms around Hank’s neck- managing to avoid pressing his raw skin on Hank’s clothes- and burst into tears.

 

Hank blinked, frozen for a few seconds before his fatherly instincts- and thank fuck they were still there- hit him and he wound his arms around Connor’s alarmingly tiny frame, holding him close as he stood up. He grabbed the single duvet off of the bed and awkwardly wadded it around Connor to save him from the winter cold outside and grabbed a pair of shoes from the closet almost as an afterthought.

 

As Hank made his way down the stairs with Connor in his arms, he turned his body away from the living room in the hopes that Amanda wouldn’t spot the boy but his hopes were dashed.

 

“Connor.” Her voice was cold and emotionless, and Hank immediately felt Connor freeze in his hold. Amanda sighed as if she’d been greatly let down. “I am very disappointed in you-”

 

“Shut it, Stern.” Hank snarled, placing a hand on the back of Connor’s head as the boy began to shake, hard. “Ramiro, bring her into custody for kidnapping and child abuse, I’m gonna call a squad car outside.” The officer in question was staring at the boy but snapped back to attention as Hank spoke.

 

Hank exited the house, trying to bunch the duvet around Connor tighter as the outside chill hit them like a slap in the face. He made a beeline for his car, opening the passenger side door and awkwardly sitting in the seat facing out. Grabbing the radio he brought it close, cranking up the heating in the car as far as he could.

 

“Lieutenant Anderson to dispatch, are the Traci’s out tonight?” He asked, pausing for a reply. Connor was peeking out from where he was squished between Hank’s jacket and the duvet and he watched the crackling radio with scared but curious eyes.

 

“ _Dispatch here, they’re out and available. What’s your situation and location?”_

 

“I’ve got a kid with uh- chemical burns? On his hand and wrist.” He rattled off the address and got a confirmation that the Traci’s were on their way. “You’re gonna be fine, kid. The Traci’s are two of the best gals I know.”

 

Connor didn’t reply, shuddering against the lieutenant’s chest.

 

A few minutes later an ambulance rounded the corner with lights flashing but no siren, to Hank’s relief. It pulled up just behind his car and he got out, still holding Connor tight to his chest. The little boy’s eyes had been slipping shut for the last few minutes before jolting back open, and every time it sparked a new wave of shivering throughout his thin body.

 

The two front doors of the ambulance opened and two women jumped out, one going to open the back up and the other approaching Hank and Connor.

 

“Anderson! I thought we hadn’t seen you in a while.” Blue-haired Traci smiled at him before her eyes went to the bundle in his arms, just as the other woman turned.

 

“How’s your liver, detective?” Brown-haired Traci- the naming system was basic, but the easiest way to refer to the couple- asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the ambulance door.

 

“It’s fuckin- friggin’ fine, thanks for askin’.” Hank grumbled, feeling Connor attempt to burrow further into the duvet surrounding him. “This is Connor. Connor, these are the Traci’s.” He introduced, attempting to turn Connor to greet the two women but the boy just turned his face further into Hank’s chest. “C’mon kid, they’re not that scary. Promise.”

 

“Hi there Connor!” Blue-hared Traci greeted, leaning down a little to reach his level. “How about we go sit in the ambulance for a bit so I can have a look at your hands?”

 

Connor peeked out at her but didn’t say anything. Hank took charge, heading to the open ambulance and sitting on the back step just as another squad car pulled up outside.

 

“Hey kid.” Brown-haired Traci spoke from behind her wife, standing just outside the ambulance as Blue-Haired Traci grabbed her bag from inside and began pulling out equipment. “You wanna see something cool?”

 

Connor didn’t reply but he didn’t hide away either, which Hank counted as a win. They both watched as Brown-Haired Traci pulled a coin out from her pocket and placed it in her palm. Connor’s eyes stayed glued to her hands in rapt attention as Blue-haired Traci sat on the step next to them.

 

“Connor? Can you show me your hands?” She asked quietly, smiling encouragingly when Connor’s eyes turned to her. He glanced up at Hank as if waiting for confirmation, hesitantly holding out his hands when Hank nodded encouragingly.

  
“You watching?” Brown-haired Traci asked, catching his attention as she held the hand holding the coin up, tossing it into the air a few times before rolling it over her knuckles.

 

Connor watched, mesmerised as she flipped the coin around her fingers before tossing it back and forth between her hands, then repeating.

 

“How did he get these?” Blue-haired Traci whispered to Hank, the boy’s attention still held by the coin tricks.

 

Hank shrugged slightly, trying to not dislodge Connor from his lap.

 

“He said he dropped a bottle of bleach. Guess he was trying to clean it up.”

 

Blue-haired Traci muttered a curse, spraying something onto a sterile bandage before very gently placing it over the chemical burn on Connor’s hand.

 

“Connor? When you got hurt, what did you do?” She asked, gently touching Connor’s shoulder through the duvet to get his attention.

 

“Um. I...” He mumbled, averting his eyes nervously. “I cleaned up, and. And washed my hands. But it still hurt.”

 

“That was very good, Connor. Well done.” Blue-haired Traci smiled encouragingly, letting his attention be caught again by the coin. “Who the hell would let a kid near bleach.” She muttered, gently winding a bandage around the wadding to keep it in place.

 

“Same woman who kidnapped him and told the world she rescued him from someone worse.” He replied, feeling Connor become heavier in his arms. “Hey kid. You tired?”

 

Connor blinked heavily, his free hand coming up to rub his eyes.

 

“No.” He said defiantly, although he yawned a second after. The stress of the evening seemed to be catching up with him. His bandaged hand came up to rub his eyes and Hank caught his wrist gently, guiding it back to his lap. He had a sudden flashback to when Cole was teething and keeping the kid’s hand from his mouth became a mission in of itself. Hank shook himself out of the memory before it became too painful.

 

“’mkay. Is he cleared to come to the station with me, or does he need a hospital?” He asked, still gently holding onto Connor’s wrist. The boy didn’t even struggle as he slumped back against Hank’s chest.

 

Blue-haired Traci opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a noise from inside the ambulance. She held up a finger before climbing through the ambulance, reaching through the front seats and grabbing the radio.

 

“Traci’s here, what’s the location? … Okay, we’ll be a few minutes.” She replaced it before returning to the others.

 

“Sorry Hank, we’ve gotta run to a pile-up. Connor should be fine, if you or whoever becomes his guardian for now takes him to get his hand checked every few days just to make sure it’s healing properly then that’d be for the best. Call us if you need anything- or just, y’know, to let us know you’re not dead.” She narrowed her eyes at him, closing the doors to the ambulance as Hank stood up.

 

Brown-haired Traci pocketed her coin, smiling at Connor who watched it as it disappeared.

 

“See you later.” She waved at them before climbing into the drivers seat and starting up the engine.

 

Blue-haired Traci hesitated for a moment, laying a hand on Hank’s shoulder.

 

“Seriously, Hank. Anything you wanna talk about, text me.” She squeezed his shoulder before entering the ambulance, the door slamming as the vehicle pulled away from the curb.

 

Hank watched them go, feeling Connor become heavier in his arms as he slowly fell asleep. He sighed, turning back to the house just as two officers exited, escorting Professor Stern between them. The woman was the picture of calm and collected, and Hank bit back the urge to throw her into the pond as she looked over in his direction and frowned at him. She’d seemed to have managed to perfect the ‘You are worth nothing to this world’ look down to a T and it made Hank’s skin crawl.

 

Moving to the passenger side of his car, Hank managed to open the door and gently deposit Connor into the seat, duvet and all. He pulled the seatbelt over him, feeling a pang of nostalgia to so long ago, and buckled him in.

 

Next stop, the precinct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Welcome to chapter 2. 
> 
> Through a conversation I had with my ~muse~ Kottakitty (go check out their Detroit fic!) we agreed that Amanda wouldn’t be outright physically abuse like, for example, Todd, but she would err more on the side of emotional/psychological abuse, especially manipulation and controlling others. This also gives her more of an excuse while faced with charges like child abuse, as the only physical injuries Connor has are to himself having an accident although it was Amanda’s fault.
> 
> Hopefully this makes sense? I also had to include the Traci’s, I love them. 
> 
> Sorry if the ending seems a little rush, I’ve been struggling with it for about a week and really wanted to get this out for everyone who wanted to read it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor arrive at the station and Connor's acting strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... hi?
> 
> I was working on my Kara cosplay but got a bit stuck and thought ‘hey I haven’t updated this series in a while’ and turns out it’s been… a long while so. Oops. I also left my job and moved house so it’s been a busy time!  
> if you wanna check it out then #peanutbuttercosplays on instagram!

Connor had spent most of the trip to the precinct dozing, much to Hank’s relief. He’d jerked awake a few times when they’d gone over speedbumps and around corners but hadn’t made much of a fuss, only looked around until his eyes hit Hank and then relaxed again. Hank wasn’t sure how much Connor was actually taking in- the kid seemed exhausted and between the injury, the stress and the relief of getting away from Professor Stern, he couldn’t blame him. And Hank still didn’t know the extent of what Stern had done to him.

 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

 

When they reached the precinct Hank cut the engine and sat back in his seat, running a hand through his tangled hair and grimacing as his fingers snagged on a knot. He’d received confirmation during the ride that Professor Amanda Stern had arrived at the precinct and he’d deliberately waited an extra few minutes before leaving, not wanting Connor to bump into her once they’d arrived.

 

Connor was slumped against the window, eyes shut and mouth slightly open. His hair, which looked like it had been slicked back with some kind of product, was slipping out of its style and a few curly strands fell over his pale forehead.

 

Hank mentally pushed away a memory that was creeping up on him of Cole, in the exact same position after a long day at school. He thanked whatever higher beings supposedly out there that, besides from the pale skin and small stature, Connor didn’t bear all that much of a resemblance to his son.

 

“Connor?” He said quietly, reaching out and laying a hand on top of the duvet that Connor was wrapped in. He wasn’t prepared for Connor to jolt awake, jerking away from Hank and staring at him as if suddenly scared. “Woah! Connor, kid, calm down. You okay?” He raised both hands calmly, not wanting to spook him more.

 

Connor stared at him for a few more seconds before seemingly remembering who and where he was, blinking and looking around.

 

“Connor?” Hank tried again

“My apologies, Lieutenant.” Connor replied, voice flat and steady.

 

Hank blinked, momentarily wondering if the boy had been replaced with a changeling or something from this 180 degree flip of behaviour. His brown eyes were still reddened from crying but the rest of his face was blank, emotionless. Except for a slight tremor that took a hold of his mouth every so often.

 

“You okay kid?” Hank tried again, trying to not make any more sudden movements. There was a moment of silence before he got a reply.

 

“I’m fine, thank-you.” Connor stared at him, unblinking. “How are you?”

 

What the fuck.

 

“Uh. I’m. I’m good. Thanks Connor.” He replied stiltedly, not entirely sure what to do here. Crying kids, he could deal with. Injured kids, a bit harder but doable.

 

Kids who seem to have suddenly developed the mannerisms of a robot? Bit less in his comfort zone.

 

“If- if I may ask, Lieutenant,” Connor began after a few more moments of silence. “Where are we?”

 

“Oh shi- shoot, yeah. We’re at the police station.” Hank said, gesturing to the large lit sign outside the building. “We’re just gonna go inside so I can talk to you for a bit. That okay?”

 

Connor looked down at his lap, fidgeting for a moment before sort of slamming his hands down in his lap as if forcing himself to stop.

 

“That is okay with me.” He pushed the duvet down from around his chest and pulled his legs free, unbuckling his seatbelt by himself and going to open the door.

 

“Woah, hey wait.” Hank reached into the back seat, almost missing Connor’s minute flinch at the movement. “You’re not going outside without shoes, you might step on something.” He grabbed the tiny pair of smart black shoes that he’d taken from the closet earlier, placing them on the seat next to Connor. He was so tiny he probably should’ve been in a car seat, Hank realised.

 

Connor looked from Hank to the shoes, slowly taking them and pulling them onto his feet. He tied the laces slowly but well, mouthing something as he did.

 

“You good?” Hank said once he’d finished, and the boy nodded. Hank got out of the car, rounding it and opening the door for Connor. The boy climbed out, carefully avoiding a puddle that had gathered on the pavement from the rain earlier that day. He shivered, arms raising to wrap around himself and Hank inwardly swore, realising he hadn’t grabbed Connor a coat. Instead, he removed his own jacket and dropped it over the small boy’s shoulders. It reached his knees and Connor looked startled, small hands gripping it. “C’mon, lets go inside. Should be warmer in there.”

 

It seemed to have been a quiet evening at the precinct tonight, which Hank was immensely glad for as he lead the boy inside. A few officers were milling around and by the sounds of it there was a game on the TV, judging by the cheers and _“Pay up, fuckface!”_ that came from that direction.

 

Hank snorted, leading the way to his desk. Connor was keeping up with him even on his short legs, face still blank and calm. His eyes were flitting all over the room as he took everything in but his expression never changed.

 

It hadn’t gotten any less creepy.

 

He could also feel the eyes of half the people in the room on them as soon as they’d stepped into the building but he ignored them, well-practiced at doing so when he turned up late. Or drunk. Or hungover.

 

Eh, whatever.

 

“There y’go Connor.” Hank pulled a chair over from an empty desk nearby and parked it by his own, patting the seat in a gesture for Connor to sit down. He realised a moment too late that the chair was a little high for the small boy but by the time he went to do something, Connor had looked over his surroundings and used a slightly open drawer as a foothold while one hand grabbed the chair arm and the other grabbed the desk, heaving himself up.

 

‘Something tells me this kid would like parkour.’ He thought, sitting down in his own seat and putting his bag of evidence under the desk.

 

“So, Connor. How you feeling?” He asked, leaning his arm on the arm of the chair.

 

Connor looked up at him, tilting his head a little as he seemed to think on it.

 

“You’ve already asked me that, lieutenant.” He replied evenly, with no inflection.

 

“Yeah, I know. Just thought I’d check if anything’d changed.” Hank shrugged, trying to hide how actually uneasy he was feeling. He hadn’t expected to find Connor so quickly and had been so focused on finding him that he hadn’t taken a moment to think of what to do when he found him.

 

He hadn’t even stopped to consider that although he had once been a father, it had been a few years since he’d had even passing contact with any kids. And Cole sure as fuck had never acted like this so he wasn’t really sure what to do.

 

“I...” Connor began, startling Hank out of his thoughts. “Am. I am curious why you have arrested Professor Stern.”

 

What.

 

“Why?” Hank repeated, eyes not leaving Connor’s face. The boy shifted very slightly, although it was barely noticable.

 

“Yes. Has she done something wrong?” Connor’s hands shook as he spoke and his gaze glanced around the room for a few seconds before returning to flitting around Hank’s face, occasionally meeting his eyes.

 

Hank stared openly at him, trying to formulate an answer in his head. Of course, of _course_ , Connor wouldn’t know. He was only six and he’d been living with this woman for almost half his life, it would be incredible if he actually had any memories of his mother.

 

That thought suddenly made Hank feel incredibly sad. Not only would Chloe never get to see her son safe and free again, but Connor would never get to see his mother who’d given up everything for a chance of saving him.

 

Maybe Ben was right. He was getting too involved already.

 

“Yeah. Yeah she has, kid. D’you mind if I ask you a few questions?” He tried to swerve around the question and didn’t miss the concerned look that flitted across Connor’s face as he did.

 

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Came the reply.

 

“Okay. What’s your full name?” Hank asked, grabbing a pen from the pot on his desk and his notepad.

 

“My name is Connor.” Connor replied, tilting his head quizzically when Hank looked at him.

 

“And your last name?” He asked, praying to a God he no longer believed in that Stern hadn’t made him forget his own damn name.

 

Connor’s eyes dropped to his lap and he fidgeted nervously, picking at the bandages on his hands

 

“’m not supposed to tell.” He mumbled, suddenly sounding shy and nervous.

 

Hank slowly put down the pen and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

 

“You can tell me, Connor. I promise I won’t tell her you said anything.” He murmured, reaching out and gently laying his hand on Connor’s shoulder.

 

The boy glanced up at him, pulling the jacket he still had draped over him a little closer.

 

“… My name is. Is.” He took a breath, before looking up with a defiant glint in his eye. “My name is Connor Hostes.” He flinched back as if expecting something- a strike, a reprimand maybe?

 

A grin overtook Hank’s face and he squeezed Connor’s shoulder before sitting back.

 

“Damn fine name, Connor. Why weren’t you supposed to tell anyone?” He asked, feeling relieved as he wrote the name on the police report.

 

“Professor Stern said that if anyone found out my name, they would take me away. She told me that I had been left with her because my mother did something bad and ran away and that if I did anything bad then I wouldn’t be able to stay with her anymore.” Connor looked around, avoiding Hank’s eyes. “She tried to make me forget it. But I always remembered.”

 

Hank felt a spark of hope at that.

 

“D’you remember anything else?” He probed carefully, trying to not sound too eager lest he freak the poor kid out.

 

Connor frowned, brow creasing as he seemed to think.

 

“I…” He suddenly looked up, a scared look flashing across his face. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone.” He repeated, looking around nervously as if Amanda might jump out at any second.

 

Hank held back a sigh, trying to think of something, anything, that might help in this situation.

 

An idea came to mind and he almost immediately squashed it, thinking that Connor seemed almost too smart and mature to go for it. But then he remembered that beneath the calm face and mannerisms was a little kid who was scared and who only hours ago had immediately thrown himself at the first comfort he’d been shown in years.

 

Hank shifted in his seat, leaning forwards and holding out his hand with only his little finger extended.

 

“Connor, look at me.”

 

Connor looked up, first at Hank’s face and then at his extended hand. A confused expression took over his little face and Hank gave a small smile.

 

“You know what this means? It means that when I make a promise, it’s impossible to break.”

 

Connor’s eyes stayed on his hand and he tilted his head, thinking.

 

“I think. I think I’ve...” He raised a hand, mimicking Hank’s movement until he was almost touching him. “I remember this?” It was more of a question than anything.

 

“Lots of people do pinkie promises, Connor. I bet there was someone you used to know who did them.” He prompted, loosely connecting their fingers. “See? I promise that if you tell me, I will not tell Professor Stern. Swear on my life.”

 

Connor didn’t move for a good few seconds before he spoke.

 

“I remember a woman. I don’t remember her face, but… she was blonde. And very very kind.” He blinked a few times as if processing something. “She used to sing a lot. But I think… I think the last time I saw her she was crying.” He looked up at Hank, not taking his hand back. “I don’t know why.”

 

Hank swallowed thickly, reaching under his desk to retrieve the tablet from Chloe’s apartment. He handed it to Connor, gently taking his hand away and unlocking the screen.

 

“Tap it.” He instructed, pointing to the play button.

 

Connor did so, lifting the tablet up so he could see it a little better.

 

“ _Okay Connor, are you ready?”_ The boy’s eyes widened so much it was almost comical. _“And… open!”_

 

Hank watched as Connor watched the video of his third birthday at Pirate Island. Hank could picture the video clearly, the joy and love in Chloe’s voice evident even without the visuals.

 

“ _Welcome to Pirate Island, me hearties! You’re gonna have a whale of a time!_ _Have a very happy birthday, young man!”_

 

“ _Thank-you, Jerry.”_

 

“ _No problem miss! You want anything else just let me know, y’hear?”_

 

There was a rustle as the phone in the video was handed over.

 

“ _Happy birthday, sweetheart.”_

 

“ _I love you mommy!”_

 

A few seconds of silence followed the end of the video and Hank watched the boy carefully as he stared at the enlarged video thumbnail.

 

“That’s her.” He whispered, looking up at Hank with watery eyes. “That’s the woman I remember.”

 

Hank nodded, going to take the tablet back but deciding against it as Connor pulled it closer to himself.

 

“Her name was Chloe Hostes.” He said slowly, watching as Connor stared down at the tablet.

 

“Was.” Connor said, still staring at the image. “You said was.”

 

‘Shit.’ Hank thought, internally cursing himself out for his choice of words.

 

“Yeah. Yeah I did. I’m sorry kid.”

 

“She’s not coming.” It sounded less like Connor was talking to him and more like he was talking to himself. “She said she’d come to get me.”

 

“She tried, kiddo. She tried really, really hard and she came so close but sometimes… sometimes some things aren’t possible.” Hank said sadly. He watched Connor as the boy stared at the frozen image on the screen, that Hank knew without seeing was of his mother’s smiling face.

 

Connor’s face was doing something strange- it looked like he was trying to suppress any emotion he was feeling, leaving his face twitching as he forced to expressions down.

 

“Connor.” He started, seeing the boy freeze as if he’d done something wrong. “It’s okay. It’s okay if you want to cry.”

 

Connor bit his lip, not looking up.

 

“Crying is unbecoming.” He said flatly, as if repeating something he’d heard time and time again. “Crying is- is unacceptable behaviour. Good children don’t cry.” The small boy’s voice had faded to a whisper and cracked, as he tried to cover it with a small cough.

 

Hank clenched his fists, trying to crush the urge to find Amanda and make her pay for this, for making Connor feel small, feel like his emotions weren’t worth jack shit and that he wasn’t allowed to even cry.

 

He ignored the fact that the similarities between them were stark, and instead focused on the boy in front of him rather than himself.

 

So he was a hypocrite. Never said he wasn’t.

 

Glancing down, he spotted a tiny flash of blue in the evidence bag and had an idea. Even Hank remembered the toys he’d had as a young kid, although it had been more than forty years ago. He leaned down and withdrew the stuffed whale toy from the bag, holding it out in front of him.

 

“Do you know what this is, Connor?” He asked, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible.

 

Connor looked up for the first time since watching the video, eyes darting from Hank’s face to the toy and he froze, seemingly recognising it.

 

“It’s a whale shark.” He said, lowering the tablet to his lap.

 

“Yeah? I didn’t know that.” Hank encouraged, holding it out. “You recognise it?”

 

Connor reached out slowly, glancing up at Hank quickly as if making sure if it was okay, before brushing his fingers over the toy.

 

“I think so...” He gently took the shark- whale shark? Hank wouldn’t have been able to identify it- and brought it closer, holding it close to his face. For a weird moment Hank thought he was going to lick it for some reason but instead he brought it to his nose, forehead furrowing as he… sniffed it? Okay.

 

“She… my...” Connor spoke slowly, closing his eyes for a few moments. “My… my mom gave this to me.” He looked up with water eyes, holding the toy close to his chest.

 

Hank gave a sad smile, sitting back and watching the boy.

 

“Yeah? Pretty cool toy if you ask me.” This day was turning out to be an absolute rollercoaster and Hank wasn’t sure what else it could throw at him.

 

“Did- did you know that the whale shark has over three thousand teeth, but doesn’t use them to eat.” Connor rushed, eyes still on the toy.

 

Hank raised an eyebrow.

 

“I didn’t know that. What d’they use them for?”

 

Connor frowned, looking a little put out.

 

“I don’t know.” He murmured, looking up. “I don’t know how I knew that.”

 

Hank thought back to Chloe’s apartment, about the room she’d made for Connor and how many books and DVDs and toys in there had been sea-themed.

 

“I’d say you have a pretty good memory, kid.” He smiled.

 

Connor seemed to relax a little- he’d gone stiff when admitting he didn’t have an answer.

 

“C’mon then, what else can you tell me about your friend?” Hank pointed at the toy shark, feeling absurdly proud when a small smile crept onto Connor’s face.

 

“Did you know that whale sharks are sharks, not whales, but the way they feed is closer to whales so...”

 

~*~*~

 

About ten minutes and… more facts than he could count later, a harried-looking officer hurried over to Hank’s desk and hovered for a minute.

 

Hank tried to ignore him until the man started tapping on the desk and he gave up, turning to face the younger man.

 

“What?” He asked, having actually been enjoying the conversation with the kid.

 

Connor was still acting strange- or stranger than what Hank was used to, he sat perfectly straight and spoke like he’d swallowed a textbook or ten- but he’d seemed to relax at least somewhat and was now using Hank’s computer (with permission) to show him videos of his favourite fish.

 

At the interruption Connor had startled so hard he’d almost fallen off his chair, sliding off it a moment later and standing as if to attention. He was still holding his toy and the tablet close to himself, as if expecting someone to take them away.

 

“Um, Lieutenant, I need to talk to you.” The officer said, glancing at Connor.

 

“Can it wait?” Hank said irritably.

 

“No, sir, it really can’t.”

 

Hank sighed, fishing around in his pockets before producing a crumpled five dollar bill.

 

“Hey, Chris,” He called to a few desks over, where Chris Miller was doing paperwork. The man looked up questioningly and Hank gestured for him to come over. “Do me a favour, take Connor to get some food in the breakroom while I deal with this?”

 

“Sure. Hey kiddo.” Chris knelt down by Connor, a smile on his face. He was a new addition to the force but Hank already had more respect for him than for most of the precinct put together. “I’m Officer Miller, you can call me Chris. What’s your name?”

 

Connor turned large brown eyes on Hank, looking almost nervous.

 

“My name is Connor.” He said quietly, turning back to Chris.

 

“Nice to meet you, Connor. How about we go get a snack and leave Hank to deal with his boring work stuff, huh?” Chris grinned, gesturing to the break room.

 

“I’m not hungry.” Connor mumbled, edging closer to the desk.

 

“Connor, buddy.” Hank leaned over to get a bit more on his level. “Trust me, you ain’t gonna want to hear this boring stuff. How about you go get us both a snack or something and come back in a few minutes?”

 

“Lieutenant, I really must-”

 

“I get it, Christ.” Hank replied, sitting up.

 

“We’ll be right back, won’t we Connor?” Chris took a step back, motioning for Connor to do the same.

 

Connor cast one last look at Hank before following the younger man.

 

Hank sighed, turning back to the officer.

 

“What is it?”

 

~*~*~

 

Elijah sighed as he reclined on his sofa, reaching out for the remote with his spare hand, the other occupied with holding a glass of whiskey. He brought the remote up and turned the TV on, flicking through channels until he reached the news. It wasn’t like there was going to be anything better on.

 

“ _\- a shocking scene at the home of Professor Amanda Stern tonight as witnesses describe seeing her escorted out of her house and into a police car, following accusations of kidnapping and child abuse. Professor Stern, pictured here with her colleagues at a fundraiser last month, was taken into custody approximately three hours ago.”_

 

Eyes widening as an image of his former teacher appeared on the screen, Elijah leaned forward and stared at it. Professor Stern looked just as he had when he and Chloe had studied under her- until Chloe had suddenly dropped out of the course and off the face of the earth. It had been just a few months before graduation but he hadn’t seen Chloe since.

 

Or Connor.

 

Elijah thought about them sometimes. He and Chloe had been close, about as close as he’d ever been to another human being, and he couldn’t deny that he missed both of them. Contrary to what their classmates thought, they’d never been in an actual relationship (and Elijah was not Connor’s father, no matter what they wanted to imply) but their bond had been special.

 

And then they’d vanished.

 

Elijah had been out of town when Chloe had texted him something about her estranged parents dying- they’d all but disowned her when they’d found out she was pregnant with a stranger’s baby as a result of a one night stand- and having to sort out their funeral arrangements, then she’d just gone. He’d tried contacting her multiple times but the calls went unanswered and then blocked, and any attempt at getting contact details out of Professor Stern was trying to draw blood from a stone. She’d ended up snapping that perhaps Chloe had been avoiding him on purpose before telling him to give up searching.

 

As he thought about it, Stern had also changed around that time. She’d become more reclusive, although never missed a day of work. After the short holiday between terms she’d come back, announced that she was working on a new project and she would perhaps let a few students know about it.

 

That had been three years ago, everyone in his class had graduated since then and he’d heard nothing. And now with the apparent allegations of child abuse and kidnapping, it had to have something to do with Chloe and her son.

 

But what?

 

Elijah nearly jumped out of his skin as the doorbell rang and he looked down at himself, deciding that whichever neighbour it was could deal with seeing him in his bathrobe. He put down his drink, switching the TV off before approaching the front door and opening it.

 

“Good evening Elijah.” Said Amanda Stern, a thin smile on her face. “It’s been a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pinkie promise thing has its beginnings in Detroit City Highschool, the sequel to this series, where Hank does the same to Alice when he meets her. I like to think it’s something he started with Cole.  
> Honestly I’m not 100% happy about how I wrote Connor in this one, but I wanted him to still have his ‘emotional programming’ from Amanda but still be a scared little boy behind it, like she hasn’t got full control over him yet. I also haven't updated since August (whaaaaat the heck) and really wanted to put something out for you wonderful people.  
> Connor also has a bit of a funny moment after watching the video because after literally living half his life with Amanda and being told all these bad things about his mom and his ‘old’ life he’d started to question his memories, namely that Chloe loved him and said she’d come back for him. At this point he thought that was a dream and being confronted with the fact that his mom existed, loves him and was going to come get him, doesn’t know what to think anymore.  
> I also headcanon him as having an incredible memory but even that can be difficult to deal with when someone (Amanda) is telling you you’re always wrong.   
> Connor’s speech sounds very un-six-year-old-ish but he has been essentially behaviourally programmed by Amanda to be this way. I worked with a 6 year old child actor last year in a Victorian-era production who liked to jump between her normal way of speaking and how her character spoke which was adorable, but less so in Connor’s circumstance.  
> Also smell memory is a thing that lasts more than visual memory (to my memory, at least) like when you smell something and immediately think ‘hey I remember this things from when I was six’. Didn’t really want Connor to lick the shark so I had him smell it instead. (Sad headcanon that Chloe used to sit in the room she’d made for Connor and hold the shark and think of giving it to him one day, brb crying.)
> 
> Fun fact, I’m writing a Soul Eater fanfic in between this and my others (I have 0 control, I literally have 3 series and four oneshots on the go) and keep mixing up the names ‘Professer Stern’ and ‘Professor Stein’.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the manhunt for Professor Stern begins, Elijah has questions for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO, two chapters in under a week!! Hope I’m making up for the 2 and a bit month wait for the last chapter? Just a little? I hope so. Ya'll have probably noticed that I have no update schedule and I apologise profusely.

“What the _**fuck**_ do you mean she left?!” Hank shouted, slamming a hand on his desk. “How did she leave?!”

 

The officer in front of him flinched but Hank didn’t give a shit.

 

“She- she asked if I’d get her some water and by the time I got back she’d-”

 

“So she what? Teleported? Walked through the fucking wall?! Fucks _sake_ ,” Hank raised his hands to grip at his hair in an attempt to not throw things instead. “You, contact the press. Give them a photo and tell them we’re offering a reward for information. If she’s found before the end of the night I might not suspend you for losing the fucking suspect.” He growled, grabbing a photo of Stern from the folder on his desk and flinging it at the officer.

 

“Wow, not even midnight and you’re bullying the underlings?” A voice came from a few desks away and Hank closed his eyes, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

 

“Reed, if you know what’s good for you you’ll back the fuck off.” He ground out, opening his eyes and looking down at the papers in front of him, trying to find something or someone in Chloe’s notes that could help.

 

“Oof, that stung. How many bars were you in before you crawled in tonight?”

 

There had to be something, someone Chloe had trusted.

 

“Gotta admit I’m impressed you made it here without crashing that vintage wreck you call a car.”

 

“You piece of sh-”

 

“Lieutenant Anderson?”

 

Hank turned at the mention of his name to see Connor standing by his desk, holding onto a styrofoam cup from the breakroom with both bandaged hands. Chris stood behind him, glaring at Reed.

 

Feeling a little of the rage drain out of him at the boy’s presence, he turned his back on Reed and crouched to Connor’s level.

 

“What you got there Connor?” He asked, trying to ignore the absolute prick of a detective hovering behind him.

 

“I didn’t know what drink you like so I asked Officer Miller to help me get you a coffee.” He held it out carefully, unshaken in the presence of an angry Hank. “I could not reach the machine.”

 

Hank stared at him for a few seconds before smiling, reaching out and taking the cup. He still felt angry at his colleague’s incompetence and at- well, his colleagues- but it’s hard to be completely enraged when a kid is offering you something.

 

“Thanks Connor. You didn’t have to do that.” He automatically reached out and ruffled Connor’s hair, not realising until he’d done it that he could have potentially freaked the kid out- but Connor seemed content, if a little surprised at the contact. He watched as Hank’s hand retracted, the crease in his forehead and tilt of his head indicating that he was thinking hard about something. “Didn’t get anything for yourself?”

 

Connor shook his head, hands falling to his sides.

 

“Everything available had excis-exess-” He frowned, although it looked a little like a pout with his young face. “Very high amounts of sugar and saturated fat in. It isn’t good for you.”

 

Hank sat back in his chair, beginning to type up an email to send around the local precincts about a certain professor.

 

“Ain’t much in this world that is good for you, might as well enjoy what’s there while you can.” He looked down to where Connor was still standing by his chair as if waiting for something. “Uh… you can sit down if you want?”

 

Connor nodded, seeming relieved at being given permission to _sit down_.

 

Hank was seriously beginning to wonder if Professor Stern was a sociopath. What, did she make him ask for permission to use the bathroom too?

 

Christ, he hoped not.

 

“Fuck me, are you adopting another one?” Came a loud voice from a few feet away and Hank closed his eyes, trying to push the urge to punch Reed in the face down.

 

“Bite me.” He gritted out, signing off the email with ‘ _Let’s catch this psycho’_ and sending it.

 

“Seriously, after what happened last time? At least this one looks more well behaved.” Reed continued, gesturing to where Connor was sitting perfectly still with his hands in his lap, staring at the man.

 

“C’mon Gavin, leave off.” Chris called, sounding irritated from where he’d returned to his desk.

 

“Do you wear lipstick?” Came a small voice and Hank turned, surprised as he realised that Connor had spoken.

 

Reed stared at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted tentacles.

 

“What? The fuck kind of question is that?” He approached, crossing his arms as he loomed over the child.

 

“You have lipstick on your collar. It’s a strange place to have it.” Connor’s voice was flat but carried across the bullpen and a few people nearby sniggered.

 

Reed grabbed his collar, looking down at the dark pink smear on it before looking back at Connor.

 

“Little shit-” He hissed, stepping forward. Connor leaned back in his chair, a flash of fear crossing his face and one arm coming up to cross his torso as if to protect him.

 

“Stay back, jackass.” Hank stood up and stepped in front of Connor, leaning into Reed’s space. “You really wanna tell the Captain why you’re intimidating the one witness to a case you’re not even on?”

 

It seemed to work and Reed sneered at him before stepping back and stalking away to the bathroom, presumably to scrub the strain of his transgressions away.

 

“Jackass.” Hank muttered after him, turning back to Connor. “You okay kid?”

 

What he hadn’t expected was a look that he would (at a guess) call _awe_ having taken residence on Connor’s face. It was gone in a flash but would last in Hank’s memory forever.

 

“I-I’m well, thank-you. I’m sorry I antagonised him.” He sounded ashamed and avoided Hank’s eye for a moment.

 

“You kidding? That was hilarious. We’ll make a cop of you yet.” Hank grinned at him, patting him on the shoulder and sitting back down. “You sit tight, kid. Everything’ll be fine.”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Was the reply, and Hank swore inwardly. He kept forgetting how sharp this kid was.

 

“Just a saying. I’ve got it written on a sticker on my bathroom mirror, helps keep me sane.” Hank flashed a smile at Connor before looking back at his computer as his email notification pinged at him.

 

“ _Anderson!”_ Came a shout from the captain’s office and Hank let out a quiet groan, swivelling around to see Fowler standing at the door. The man beckoned and Hank stood up, gesturing for Connor to follow him.

 

“Ever wanted to meet a police captain?” He asked Connor as he lead the way over.

 

“I am not sure.” Came the reply, and for a moment Hank thought he felt a small hand latch onto the back of his shirt. He forced himself not to turn and by the time they’d reached the office, it had gone.

 

“Anderson, in my office. Uh...” Fowler looked down at Connor, clearly not expecting him to be there. “Hank, I need to talk to you alone. Is he okay waiting?”

 

“You could ask him y’know.” Hank grumbled before turning to Connor. “You okay out here for a few minutes? You can see through the glass, I’ll be in there.”

 

“Of course.” Connor nodded, sounding almost offended at the insinuation that he had to be watched at all times.

 

Hank pulled over a chair from a nearby empty desk and gestured for Connor to climb into it, placing it outside the office before entering.

 

Fowler went to stand behind his desk, pointing at the TV on the opposite wall of the room where the police office who’d let their damn suspect go was holding a press conference on her.

 

“That should be you up there.” Fowler said, sitting behind his desk.

 

Hank leaned on the chair opposite, watching the TV.

 

“Yeah, well. I don’t really fancy standing in front of cameras when there’s a child abuser out there to look for.” He shrugged, turning back to the captain. “Plus that guy fucked up, he deserves to be out there with the vultures.”

 

Fowler sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

 

“Hank, Ben’s already had a word with me about his case.”

 

Hank rolled his eyes, stepping back a little.

 

“I know the similarities between that boy and your son are… strong, but you need to remember that-”

 

“For fucks sake Jeffrey, don’t you think I know?” Hank may have raised his voice a little but could you blame him? “You don’t think I know how to tell the difference between my boy and the kid out there?”

 

“I’m not saying that-”

 

“Then what are you saying? Listen, Jeff, all you’ve gotta do is spend five minutes with Connor and you’ll know he’s nothing like- ” A lump appeared in his throat at his son’s name and he pushed past it, starting again. “Connor’s a special kid. He’s scared and he’s been held captive by some abusive psycho for three years, they’re _nothing_ alike.”

 

Jeffrey held his hands up placatingly.

 

“Alright, fine. But if I see or hear anything that says you’re too close to this case-”

 

“Yeah, whatever.” Hank replied, crossing his arms. “Anything else?”

 

“As you’re lead detective on the case I’m assigning you Miller and Chen to help track Stern down. What’s your plan?”

 

Hank let out a breath, trying to calm it.

 

“Already contacted local PD’s for information, put out that press conference and I’m gonna get a few guys on the phones for sightings.”

 

“And Connor?” Fowler gestured to the boy on the other side of the glass, who quickly looked away to hide the fact that he’d been watching the exchange.

 

“As long as Stern is out there, he’ll need protection.” At that moment Connor looked back and their eyes met. “… He can stay with me til she’s found and locked up.”

 

“And then?” Fowler asked, leaning back in his chair.

 

Hank shrugged.

 

“Guess we call social. Get him somewhere to stay.” A quiet knock on the door interrupted them and Hank turned as Connor slowly opened the door. “You okay kid?”

 

Connor stepped into the office, closing the door behind him.

 

“Has- has Professor Stern escaped?” He asked quietly, looking down at his hands as he worried with the bandages.

 

Hank cast a ‘the fuck do I do?’ glance at Fowler before kneeling next to Connor.

 

“How’d you know that?” He asked as gently as he was capable of.

 

“I, um. I am very good at lipreading.” Connor glanced up, looking nervously between the two men as if expecting to be told off.

 

“You must be.” Hank tried to sound impressed before seriousness took over his tone. “I’m sorry kid, but yeah. She managed to give our officers the slip, we have guys out there looking for her now.”

 

There was silence for a moment before Connor looked up and Hank was hit by the raw emotion in his eyes.

 

“Please don’t send me back to her,” He whispered, his voice catching in his throat. “I- I know I’m bad, and I don’t deserve any-anything, but please don’t send me back, I’ll be good, I promise-”

 

“Hey, hey,” Hank murmured, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “No-one said anything about sending you back. Trust me kiddo, I’m not gonna let that bitc- that woman within a hundred feet of you.” Acting on the boy’s earlier reactions he reached out and pulled Connor into a hug, met with no resistance and forcefully ignoring Fowler’s eyes on his back. “Okay? I’ll keep you safe, son- kid.”

 

Shit.

 

~*~*~

 

“Professor Stern.” Elijah greeted evenly, suddenly feeling very underdressed while talking to his former teacher. “It has indeed been a while. Has something happened?”

 

The professor seemed as unflappable as always but there was a certain shift to her gait that made her seem almost… nervous.

 

“Do I need a reason to visit one of my most favoured students?” She asked, gesturing to the hallway behind him. “May I come in? It is rather cold out here.”

 

Elijah studied her for a moment before nodding and entering the apartment with her, muting the TV as he passed it.

 

Professor Stern paid it no mind, heading to the kitchen.

  
“Do you mind if I help myself to a drink? It’s been a long evening.” She asked, standing by the sink and laying her gaze upon him. It never failed to make him feel like he was being scrutinised.

 

Elijah couldn’t say he’d missed it.

 

“Not at all.” He replied, leaning against the doorway leading to the lounge. He glanced over his shoulder, memorising the DCPD information lines number and quickly inputting it into his phone before silencing the device and pressing ‘Call’. “So, what brings you here this fine...” A glance outside told him nothing about the time of day, so he guessed. “… evening.”

 

Professor Stern gave a small shrug, turning to face him as she sipped from her glass.

 

“I was looking over my university yearbooks-” Strange, Elijah thought, for someone not known for their sentimentality. “- and I remembered seeing your name on a paper recently, so I thought I’d come by and discuss it.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Lieutenant!” Came a shout from across the precinct and Hank turned from where he was talking to Chris and Tina.

 

“Better be good.” He growled, walking over to the officer on the phones. She was holding a hand over the receiver and clicked the phone onto speaker mode when he neared.

 

“ _-_ _published that paper a year ago, why come now?”_

 

“ _Can I not be sentimental once in a while?”_ It was unmistakably Stern’s voice and Hank tensed, feeling a small hand grip onto the back of his shirt.

 

“It’s her.” Connor whispered, stepping nearer to Hank.

 

“ _It’s just unlike you, that’s all.”_ The male voice was unfamiliar to Hank but the boy next to him tensed, tilting his head again. It was an ~~adorable~~ obvious tic that showed whenever he seemed to think about something.

 

“You recognise that voice?” Hank asked, looking down at him.

 

“I.. I think...” Connor was still for a few seconds before something seemed to possess him and he ran over to Hank’s desk, climbing onto the chair and opening the folder.

 

Hank stared after him, bewildered, before following.

 

“Keep that phone line going, record and trace the call if you can.” He pointed at the officer on the phone, who nodded and got to work.

 

Connor was carefully rifling between pages before he came upon a photo of his mother, himself and another man who Hank only recognised from the photos. He held it out, shaking a little.

 

“That’s him.” He said with conviction, seeming more alive than he had for most of the evening. “That’s- that’s uncle Elijah.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Well, I like to think I can still be surprising.” Amanda gave another thin smile, although it held no emotion. “So, what have you been up to recently?”

 

Elijah hoped that the call was picking up the conversation.

 

“You know, it’s funny. I was thinking about you earlier.” He said, pushing himself off of the doorframe and stepping just slightly closer. “You remember Chloe, from my year of your course. Chloe Hostes.”

 

Professor Stern froze, her back now to him.

 

“Of course. I remember all my students.” She replied evenly, running the tap and washing her glass out.

 

“I thought you did. I always admired your memory for people. And your skill at reading them.” Elijah stopped his approach, crossing his arms as he examined her. She seemed calm but there was an edge to her posture. “Y’know, it’s been three years since I heard from her. Could you believe that? Time sure does go fast.”

 

“Your point, Elijah?” Came the reply, a definite edge to her voice now.

 

“No point, Professor. Just a thought I had. Funny how time goes when you don’t see people.” He shrugged as she turned around, and he could tell from her expression that she’d spotted the press conference about herself playing on the TV behind him in the lounge.

 

He’d caught her. She had two choices- either keep him talking with the hope that he hadn’t already seen the TV, or leave and risk him glimpsing it.

 

“Isn’t it just.” She caught his eye, throwing him back to those years in her classroom.

 

“She had a son, don’t know if you’d remember. Used to bring him to class when she couldn’t find a sitter.” Elijah smiled slightly, remembering Chloe sitting Connor down at the desk and giving him assignments of his own. “Cute kid.”

 

“Elijah, you know how much I hate pointless conversation.” Her voice was getting hard and she was pinning him with a signature ‘get to the point or shut up’ look. Three years ago it would have silenced him, but now? Now he was in line to take over one of the biggest companies in the city, had clawed his way up with his bare hands. He wouldn’t fall to her stare.

 

“I lied, Professor Stern. This conversation does have a point.” He let the light feel to his voice slip and stepped forward again, steeling his resolve. “What happened to Chloe.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re-”

 

“One thing you taught me, professor, is how to spot a liar. What. Happened. To Chloe.” He asked again, drawing closer.

 

Professor Stern let an irritated huff out, crossing her arms.

 

“The girl was having a hard time at home. I offered her help when she asked for it.” She shrugged one shoulder, trying to appear casual. It never was her strong point.

 

“You offered? I find that hard to believe.” Elijah countered. “The day Chloe disappeared was a day that I was out of town, you must have been her last resort. Then after that I hear nothing from her? I was willing to accept that she’d up and left back then, but now? I know, Professor.” He had her backed up against the counter, eyes locked.

 

“What is it you think you know?” She replied, unwavering.

 

“I know that you know what happened to Chloe and Connor. And I know that you are going to tell me.”

 

There was silence between them for a good minute or so before Amanda spoke.

 

“I know you always liked a good experiment, Elijah. So let me offer you this.” She straightened, tipping her chin up to look at him. “For three years I have been conducting an experiment of the behavioural shaping of a child. Trained to be the image of the ‘perfect’ child- polite, tidy, obedient. When I agreed to care for Connor, Chloe had offered me the perfect test subject.”

 

Elijah’s hands tightened into fists as he managed to keep his cool.

 

“Test subject?” He replied, resisting the urge to act rashly lest he ruin the exchange of information between them.

 

“Using children is considered unethical in today’s world but I could not pass up the chance. Once he was ready I was going to present the successful subject to a scientific board as evidence that forced behavioural shaping in children works.” She said it all with such an air of nonchalance that it made Elijah’s skin crawl.

 

“Chloe was my closest friend. My only friend.” He said quietly, not budging. He knew he was a difficult person to get along with- to quote other people, he was ‘aloof, unfeeling and difficult to talk to’- but in Chloe he had found a friend. In her own isolation, being shunned by her family and former friends for being a single mother so young- some students were judge-y as fuck, no matter what people said- they had found eachother. “She would never have given Connor to you and left.” She loved that boy more than she loved herself.

 

He would never find anyone like her again.

 

“She interfered in my work. It was her own fault, what happened to her.” Professor Stern sniffed dismissively. The words alone caught Elijah’s attention.

 

“What happened to her?” He asked.

 

Professor Stern tutted, going to walk around him. He moved to block her and she shook her head at him.

 

“Chloe died. A car accident, such a shame.”

 

Elijah froze, this time not moving to stop her as she exited the kitchen.

 

“What?” He whispered, hearing her come to a halt.

 

“Dear Elijah, do keep up. There are more important things to be dealing with right now.”

 

Elijah couldn’t move. He stared at the wall in disbelief- he hadn’t heard from Chloe in three years but not once considered that she could be-

 

“You’re lying.” He ground out, turning and following Amanda into the hallway.

  
“Am I? Look for yourself, I’m sure it’s reached the news by now.” She gestured to the TV on the wall. “I’m disappointed in you, Elijah. I thought I would find an ally, an aspiring mind. It seems I was wrong.”

 

She reached for the door, opening it- and coming face-to-face with a very angry police detective.

 

“Oh, Professor...” Elijah retrieved his phone from his pocket, ending the call. “You were.”

 

~*~*~

 

Hank had tried not to keep his hopes up during the drive to Elijah Kamski’s house. He really had.

 

“Uncle Elijah used to watch me when my mom was busy.” Connor had explained on the way over, holding his shark in his hands and intently examining it. “I don’t think he had any other friends.”

 

Hank had heard of Kamski- he’d been in the news a bunch recently, having risen to a high position in some kind of technology company quicker than anyone had seen before, bringing ideas and inventions and whatever else. Apparently he had several degrees, studying psychology under Professor Stern only being one of them, and he was making good use of them.

 

Fuckin’ weird how he was connected to this seemingly random case, Hank thought.

 

When they’d reached Kamski’s apartment he’d hesitated, crouching by Connor where he was buckled in and making sure he was going to be alright on his own for a few minutes.

 

“Of course,” Connor had said, sounding a little affronted. “I am capable of being left by myself for any amount of time.”

 

And if that just didn’t piss him off even more. Who the hell leaves a six year old to fend for themselves?

 

Well. Professor Stern, obviously.

 

He’d left the kid with his shark and tablet before locking the car, leaving the heating on so Connor wouldn’t freeze before waving Chris and Tina over.

 

“Apartment only has one entrance door but a few windows, we’ve gotta get her before she tries to get out of one of them.” He told them, keeping his voice down in case it carried. “Don’t listen to anything she says. She’s smart and knows exactly what to say at any moment. Just read her her rights, get her in cuffs and get her to the station.”

 

The two officers nodded, following him as he approached the door and raised a hand to knock.

 

“-it seems that I was wrong.” The door opened- and the very person he was looking for was right in front of him.

 

Hank blinked, momentarily in shock, before coming back to himself.

 

“Professor Stern, long time no see.” He gave a grim smile before reaching out before she could react, grabbing her wrist and pulling his handcuffs from his belt. “Hope you enjoyed your night out.”

 

The professor turned and stared at Kamski, who was holding up a phone. He looked angry, glaring at the woman being put into cuffs for all he was worth as Hank read out Stern’s rights before handing her off to the officers with him.

 

“I am very, very disappoint-”

 

“Yeah, we heard that already.” Hank waved her off, watching as she was lead to the patrol car waiting outside. “Kamski, yeah?”

 

“Elijah Kamski.” The man stepped forward until he was standing in the doorway. He suddenly looked older than his years, Hank realised as he came nearer. “And you are?”

 

“Anderson. Lieutenant Anderson, I’m the lead detective on this case. I guess you saw the news?” He asked, putting out a hand to shake.

 

Kamski did so, watching the patrol car leave for the station.

 

“I did.” His eyes found Hank’s. “She said. She said Chloe died.”

 

Hank nodded slowly, putting his hands in his pockets.

 

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” There was a moment of silence. “You were close?”

 

Kamski nodded, leaning against the door frame.

 

“She was a very good friend of mine.”

 

“And Connor? You know about him?” Hank probed further.

 

“I do. And no, he is not my son. He was the result of a one night stand, Chloe and I never had that kind of relationship.” He sounded vaguely irritated at the questions. “Have you found him?”

 

Hank examined his face for a few seconds before nodding.

 

“Yeah. Found him in Stern’s house, injured and scared to death of her. You know anything about what she did to him?”

 

Kamski’s expression hardened, visibly upset. It was the most emotion Hank had ever seen on him, although all he had to compare it to was the press shots and interviews he’d glanced at over the years.

 

“She mentioned forced behavioural conditioning, wanting to shape the perfect child.” He snorted humourlessly. “I want to say I couldn’t believe it, but I would be lying.”

 

Hank watched him carefully.

 

“Where is Connor?” Kamski asked suddenly, sounding curious.

 

Hank momentarily wondered if he should tell him, but it was clear how he felt about Stern.

 

“In my car. You wanna see him?” He looked over to his car, seeing Connor’s little face looking in their direction before he quickly looked away.

 

Kamski hesitated, looking unsure.

 

“… No. I’d rather not.”

 

“You sure? He was talking about you on the way here, sounded like he-”

 

“Lieutenant, with respect, I just found out that my best friend is dead and our professor is essentially responsible. I will come and give my statement about tonight soon but I would prefer to be left alone for now.” There was genuine emotion in his voice and Hank let up a little.

 

“… Alright. Stop by the station and ask for me, Chris Miller or Tina Chen. If you meet a guy called Reed, don’t talk to him.” He warned, stepping back from the door. “Thank-you for your help tonight, Mr Kamski. It would have been difficult to catch her otherwise.”

 

“You have no idea.” Was the only reply he got before the door shut, Kamski disappearing behind it.

 

Hank ran a hand over his hair and looked up at the sky for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before he descended the steps from the apartment and approached his car.

 

Connor watched him get in, running his bandaged fingers over the soft material of his toy.

 

“I saw them arrest her.” He murmured, looking down at his lap. “Will she escape again?”

 

“Not on my watch, buddy.” Hank put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, holding back a smile when Connor- barely, but noticeably- leaned into the contact. Kid must be so touch-starved, Hank realised. “She’s headed to the station where someone competent s’gonna watch her.”

 

Connor nodded, hesitating a little before speaking again.

 

“Why didn’t Uncle Elijah want to see me?” He asked quietly, looking up at Hank with wide eyes.

 

Hank bit back a sigh. How was he gonna explain grief to a kid?

 

“Well… sometimes when people lose their friends or family, they want to be alone.”

 

“Why? I don’t like being alone.” Came the reply and _fuck_ , if that didn’t hit Hank hard.

 

“Some people find it hard to be around others when they’re grieving. Especially if the other people remind them of who they lost.” This whole conversation was hitting a little too close to home for him and he’d rather be talking about literally anything else right now.

 

Connor seemed to consider this for a few seconds.

 

“Do you prefer to be alone?” He asked, the innocence in his voice not making the question any lighter.

 

Hank swallowed, suddenly wanting to change the subject.

 

“Bet you’re tired, huh? How about we go get some sleep and start again tomorrow morning.” He tried to distract the boy, noticing the brief flash of confusion crossing his face before he nodded reluctantly.

 

“I am quite tired.” Connor replied quietly, nodding. It seemed to hit him at once and the kid tried to suppress a yawn.

 

“Lets get going then. Oh shit- shoot, yeah. Do you like dogs?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, this may feel a little speedy but... yeah I have no excuse, it just didn't write well as an extended tension thing and I am not capable of slow burn fics. Connor is starting to come out of his shell a tiny bit but there's still a lot of work to do in undoing Amanda's programming/conditioning, so he's not out of the metaphorical garden yet.  
> Also I've never written Kamski before and the only interaction I've actually seen of him is in the pacifist run so I hope he's not 100% OOC? Changing his relationship with Chloe from owner (game) to close friend likely made him different, I hope it's okay!
> 
> After the /wonderful/ reaction to my last chapter (looking at you BiziBee for making me laugh so much, and rikkacchi’s words that almost made me cry in the best way (and to every single person who comments, you fuel me to write faster!)) I had so much more drive for this, I was genuinely worried that I’d just get stuck but I feel so much better now. Literally cranked out almost 4000 words in a few hours, I should have been asleep like 2 hours ago but the writing cannot w a i t.
> 
> Shoutout to everyone actually (as of 13/11/18)- Lovinfan, Sukuangtou, Sioqu, honestly thank-you so much for taking the time to comment, I am being very genuinely honest when I say it helps!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sumo, sharks and nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of suicidal thoughts near the end!!!

“I don’t know.” Had been Connor’s reply, and damn if that didn’t gain him another sympathy point from Hank. Who didn’t know if they liked dogs?

 

They stopped off at the station first, Connor following Hank doggedly into the building just behind him with one small hand gripping his shirt. He checked in with Miller and Chen, making sure that everyone who could possibly be in contact with Professor Stern knew just how good she was at getting out of things and just how much of a watch she needed to be under before going to see Fowler.

 

Fowler had taken one look at Hank, who had now been on the clock for almost fifteen hours, and Connor who was now almost falling asleep standing upright, and told them,

  
“Go home for fuck’s sake. I don’t need you two falling asleep at a desk.” He waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes when Hank raised a middle finger at him before exiting the room.

 

“Lieutenant? Where are we going?” Connor asked, hand still holding onto the back hem of Hank’s shirt as they made their way out of the bullpen.

 

Hank wondered if he even realised he was doing it.

 

“Well, since it’s now… I dunno, three in the morning? Social services will take ages to come and I don’t wanna be here for any longer, so we’re going to my house for tonight.”

 

“Oh.” Connor said, no emotion being betrayed in his voice. “If. If you would prefer to go home by yourself, I will be alright on my own at the station.”

 

Hank looked down at the kid, an incredulous expression on his face.

 

“What? No. No, I don’t mind you coming back with me. And I’m not leaving you by yourself Connor, jeez.” The level of independence Connor was showing was unsettling, at this point most kids would be clinging to you and whining that they didn’t want you to go.

 

Or, Hank reasoned, it was a way that Connor used to try and get Stern out of the house more to leave him alone.

 

Whichever it was, Hank wasn’t about to leave a six year old to fend for himself until social services picked him up. And besides, it was just one night. It wasn’t like Connor would be staying for good.

 

For some reason, the thought of handing him over to some faceless social worker didn’t sit well with Hank and he frowned as they climbed into his car.

 

“Lieutenant, are you alright?” He heard Connor ask from the passenger seat and he blinked out of his thoughts.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. And call me Hank, we’re not at work now.” Hank started the car up, pulling away from the curb.

 

“I was always told to address people with their proper titles and respect.” Connor mumbled, rubbing one hand over his eyes tiredly.

 

“I’m just gonna say it now, everything Stern told you? Forget it. The real world doesn’t work by her rules and I sure as hell don’t, so call me Hank. Okay?” He reached over with one hand, pulling Connor’s bandaged hand away from his eyes. “Mind your hands.”

 

Connor blinked in surprise as his hand was moved, watching as Hank guided it down before moving his hand back to the steering wheel.

 

“… Okay. Hank.” He replied quietly, glancing up as if to make sure it was definitely okay.

 

A small smile found its way onto Hank’s face.

 

“See? Not so hard.” He said encouragingly, catching the glimpse of a shy smile on Connor’s face.

 

The rest of the ride passed in silence, which Hank was grateful for as he realised how tired he truly was. He’d maybe gotten three or four hours of sleep the night before and spent the first half of the day with a hangover which definitely hadn’t helped.

 

Hank pulled up onto the driveway outside his house, cutting the engine and looking over at the boy in the passenger seat. Connor was somehow still awake, looking down at the shark in his lap with tired eyes.

 

“You good?” He asked, undoing his seat belt and reaching over to do the same to Connor’s out of habit.

 

The boy’s eyes snapped up and he nodded, waiting until Hank opened the drivers side door and got out to do the same. He climbed out, a little awkwardly encumbered due to Hank’s jacket that still sat over his shoulders and the toy and tablet in his arms. He shut the door with his shoulder, leaning against it hard to make sure it was shut before following Hank to the front door.

 

Hank paused for a second as he unlocked the front door, turning to Connor.

 

“Oh, yeah- my dog, Sumo. He’s really friendly, won’t bite you or anything, if you want him to leave you alone just tell me. He’s well trained.” He left out the part about Sumo being an emotional support animal. Connor was a curious kid with a bit of a lack of tact once he got started, and he wasn’t ready to discuss why he needed emotional support from a dog.

 

Connor nodded, huddling in the jacket as the cold wind picked up a little.

 

Hank quickly turned and opened the door, checking that Sumo wasn’t laying behind it before gesturing for Connor to enter ahead of him. He then shut and locked the door, giving it a shake to make sure it was locked before turning.

 

Connor was standing a few feet away watching him, but his attention was soon caught by the scratch of claws on linoleum as Hank’s behemoth of a dog realised his owner had come home.

 

“Sumo, come.” Hank instructed, watching as Sumo obediently approached him and sat down heavily at his feet with a huff, tail wagging. “Connor, Sumo. Sumo, Connor.”

 

Sumo stared at Connor, blinking slowly before slowly rising to his feet. Hank didn’t stop him as he approached Connor, stopping maybe a foot away and sniffing the air around the boy.

 

Connor in response stared back at him, before glancing up at Hank, unsure what to do.

 

“You can pet him if you want. Just don’t grab or pull his fur, he won’t like it.” Hank instructed, gesturing at the dog.

 

Slowly, Connor reached out a small hand bandaged up to his fingertips and brushed it, just barely, over Sumo’s head. The dog huffed and stepped closer, nudging Connor’s hand further up his head.

 

Hank watched carefully for any signs of distress but couldn’t see any, and although Connor was well versed in hiding his emotions it was obvious that his exhaustion was winning him over.

 

A tiny smile lit up the boy’s small face as Sumo stepped even closer until his head gently bumped Connor’s chest, nearly knocking the boy off his feet, making him let out a noise that Hank hadn’t heard in a long time.

 

He laughed.

 

It was only quiet but it happened and Hank stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head and making his way to the kitchen.

 

“You hungry Connor?” He called, opening the fridge and grimacing at the meagre contents. A few beers sat on the top shelf, with half a pack of (probably ancient) butter beneath them and an open packet of bacon. The bread bin wielded more luck, with a few slices of slightly stale bread in.

 

When there was no reply from the boy he went to check in the hallway, stopping and staring when he got there.

 

Connor was now sitting on the floor with his legs folded under him and Sumo’s upside-down head in his lap, running his hands through the fur on his neck and head. The dog’s tail was lazily thumping on the floor and Connor had a smile seemingly permanently fixed on his face as he stroked the dog.

 

‘I guess he does like dogs.’ Hank thought to himself, leaning against the door frame.

 

“Connor?” He tried again, trying not to jump when Connor seemingly broke out of his dog-petting trance and turned around, halted by the dog still in his lap. “You hungry?”

 

Connor stared at him for a second, glancing down at the dog before his stomach made a loud noise. His face went bright red and Hank fought down a smirk.

 

“Um. A little.” He replied quietly, one hand still buried in Sumo’s fur.

 

“I don’t have much but I have bread and… probably jam somewhere. You like jam?” Hank went back to the kitchen now he had Connor’s attention, opening the cupboards until he found what he was looking for.

 

Never had he been so glad that he’d actually attempted to tidy the house a few days before. He’d chucked out two bin bags of old takeout containers and empty bottles, god knows how Connor would have reacted to staying in a shithole after the sterilised ‘home’ that had been Amanda Stern’s house.

 

“I… I don’t know.” A voice came from right behind him and Hank nearly dropped the jam jar, turning around to see Connor a few feet behind him.

 

“Christ- make some noise next time.” He said breathlessly, putting the jar down. “You can try it and see if you like it. Don’t give any to him though, Sumo can’t eat anything too sugary.”

 

Connor was standing next to Sumo, one hand still buried in the dog’s fur. He nodded his head seriously.

 

“Why is your kitchen empty?” He asked quietly, looking around the sparse room.

 

Hank followed his gaze, leaning against the counter as the toast cooked.

 

“I’m, uh. I’m not here much. Spend most of my time at work or at bars, so...” He shrugged, turning when the toaster popped and spreading butter onto the two slices. With the presence of the kid behind him he almost felt like he’d gone back in time, but…

 

“What about Sumo?” Connor asked, having very clearly taken a shine to the dog.

 

Hank paused where he was cutting the toast into triangles.

 

“I’m here most nights and I get a few days off a week. If I’m away for a while then I have someone to check up on him and take him out. And. Sometimes he comes to work with me.” Glancing around, he noticed Connor’s expression visibly brighten.

 

“He’s allowed to come to work with you?” He asked, sounding hopeful.

 

“Yep. Got a special jacket and everything.” Hank had an idea, pushing the plate aside and turning to make himself some. “He can come when we go in tomorrow, if you want.”

 

When he glanced back again, Connor looked absolutely _delighted_. Only for a second, but Hank saw it.

 

“C’mon, lets have some food and go to bed.” He passed one plate to Connor and lead the way to the sofa, electing to ignore the dining table for tonight. Sitting down heavily, he shoved some toast into his mouth before realising that Connor had yet to sit down and was still standing by the arm of the sofa, glancing between it and his plate. “Uh. You can sit down.”

 

Connor immediately did so, sinking into the cushions with relief as he picked up a piece of toast and looked at it closely.

 

Hank had to suppress his anger that yet _again_ , Connor had clearly been made to wait until given express fucking permission to sit down or eat. Attempting to shake it off, he decided to leave him to it and turned the TV off standby, immediately searching out the Discovery Channel and Hank decided that hey, maybe there is a god as it was showing reruns of Shark Week.

 

It took a few seconds for Connor to notice as he had been experimentally nibbling at his toast before something large and white swam by on the TV and he gasped, dropping the piece of toast and pointing at the screen.

 

“That’s a sand shark!” He said excitedly, showing more emotion in one exclamation than he had in the past few hours.

 

Hank looked over at him, leaning his chin on his fist as he took a bite of his toast.

 

“Yeah? Got any facts about them?” He asked, having figured out that a way to keep Connor happy- or as happy as he could be, it seemed- was to get him going on about something he liked.

 

“They… they...” Connor began, staring at the screen. “Female sand sharks… can carry two pups at one time, but often one of them consumes the other one and is born alone.”

 

Hank stared at the kid, toast forgotten for the moment.

 

“Wow. That’s… dark.” He commented, slightly disturbed by how nonchalantly Connor had said it.

 

The kid shrugged, nibbling his food.

 

“It’s how they work.” He replied simply, face lighting up in excitement when some weird-looking creature with a retractable mouth came on screen and attacked something. “That’s a goblin shark, did you know that they…”

 

~*~*~

 

About twenty minutes of shark facts and staring at the TV later, Hank voiced a question that had been on his mind for a good few hours.

 

“Connor,” Hank asked, trying to sound as casual as he could. “How do you know all this? I’d bet a weeks wage that Stern never let you watch the Discovery Channel.”

 

Connor glanced over at him before looking down at his lap, where Sumo had placed his head again.

 

“When… when my mom left me w-with Professor Stern,” He started, hesitating on the word ‘mom’ like he couldn’t quite believe it. “I had a book about sharks that she got me. I used to read it every night. I think… I think she used to read it to me.” His face crumpled and Sumo whined, thumping his tail on the floor before licking Connor’s wrist. “Professor Stern found it and- and said, ‘This book doesn’t matter. Forget it.’ and she took it away.” Connor sniffled, wiping his bandaged hand under his nose.

 

There were no words, no words that Hank could muster that could describe how he felt about Stern.

 

“That sucks, kid.” He said, because really what else can you say? “Y’know, you can use that tablet to get up all sorts of stuff about sharks if you want. Or we can go to the shops before work tomorrow and we’ll get you a new one.”

 

Connor stared down at the dog in his lap before glancing up at Hank.

 

“But- but she said it doesn’t matter.” He said quietly, his attention then caught by Sumo huffing as if the dog was sighing at him. “It’s… it’s a silly, useless thing. And- and we don’t need silly, useless things when-”

 

“Connor.” Hank said sternly, cutting him off. “No. Remember what I said? Everything that Stern said, everything she told you. _Forget_ _that_. You matter, what you like matters. Her? She’s gonna go away for a long time,” If Hank had anything to do with it, “So she _doesn’t matter_ anymore.” He reached over, placing a hand on Connor’s shoulder and gently squeezing.

 

Connor looked up at him with damp eyes, seemingly not able to believe what he was saying.

 

Hank sighed, patting his shoulder one last time before standing.

 

“Finish your toast. I’m gonna go make the bed up for you.”

 

“I-I’ll be fine here, lieut- Hank.” Connor said quickly, glancing down at Sumo.

 

“Yeah, no. That couch is probably as old as I am, you’re not sleeping on it.” Hank shook his head, pointing at the TV. “Watch your show, I’ll be right back.”

 

Without waiting for a reply, Hank left for his room. He glanced at Cole’s bedroom door, immediately deciding ‘fuck no’ as he was not prepared to have a full on mental breakdown in front of the traumatised kid in his lounge. He’d deal with that later.

 

Entering his own room, he suddenly realised just how bleak it was. It wasn’t a total shithole but the walls needed repainting, the carpet was old and stained- spending most of your time drunk did not make for good housekeeping- and there was a pile of laundry he’d been putting off for at least a week which he shoved in one of the built-in wardrobes. He used to have pictures and crayon drawings on the walls but had taken them down some time ago, finding them too painful to look at day after day.

 

Hank then stripped the bed, throwing the sheets into the same wardrobe before going to the cupboard where he kept clean laundry- immensely thankful that he actually had some- before remaking the bed and throwing the duvet back over it.

 

It wasn’t pretty, but it would do for the night that Connor was staying.

 

Until he went to CPS.

 

Hank frowned at the thought, not knowing why his mood fell slightly as soon at it. He’d said it to Ben and to Fowler, he knew that Connor wasn’t his kid and despite what they thought, he was capable of not getting too close to a case. It was only now that he was beginning to doubt himself.

 

He shook off that feeling, turning the lamp in the room on before going to find Connor.

 

Connor was still sitting on the sofa, one hand buried in Sumo’s fur while the other hands fingertips were wiping across the plate, picking up as many crumbs as they could before he licked his fingers clean. His eyes were still focused on the screen where a shark, that Hank could only identify as ‘a fucking huge shark’, was swimming lazily through the water as divers swam beside it.

 

“You all finished?” Hank asked, immediately feeling bad as Connor jumped and turned around to face him. “You can leave the plate there, I’ll deal with it. C’mon.” He gestured to the hallway, waiting for Connor to catch up. The boy looked at Sumo as he got off the couch and Hank shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Sumo can come too.”

 

That seemed to placate Connor, who immediately approached Hank and looked up at him expectantly. He lead the way to the bedroom, gesturing for Connor to go inside.

 

“Bathroom is across the hall, use it whenever you want. I’ve got work late tomorrow so don’t bother waking up early. If you want anything just come wake me, yeah?” He looked down at Connor, who was looking around the room with a slightly lost expression on his tired face.

 

“You okay Connor?” He asked, crouching down to Connor’s level.

 

The kid turned, holding his hands up to his chest and averting his eyes.

 

“I. I wanted to say thank-you, lieutenant.” He said quietly, at almost a whisper. “You have been very- very kind and, um.” He struggled to find a word for a moment and seemed embarrassed, so Hank decided to take over.

 

“Kid, it’s fine.” He placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder gently. “You don’t need to thank me.”

 

Connor looked up at him through his curly hair before lunging forward, throwing his arms around the lieutenant’s neck for a split second before stepping back.

 

Hank, who had almost fallen on his ass as Connor threw himself at him, stared at the kid in surprise.

 

“Thank-you.” Connor whispered, an almost jaw-breaking yawn taking hold of him a second later.

 

“Uh. It’s fine.” Hank repeated, still feeling slightly shellshocked. “How ‘bout you get to bed, huh?”

 

Connor nodded obediently, climbing onto the bed and freezing when Hank spoke again.

  
“Hey, wait. Shoes.” He pointed at the smart shoes still on Connor’s feet and the boy looked down, face turning red as he realised he was still wearing them. Behind him, Sumo managed to clamber up onto the bed and flop down.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” He mumbled, sitting down and reaching to undo the laces. His coordination had gone clumsy with exhaustion and he only succeeded in tangling the laces more. He was growing obviously frustrated and ended up just tugging the laces tiredly, so Hank decided to take over.

 

“C’mon, let me.” He grunted, kneeling in front of Connor and untangling the laces quickly. He’d done way more complicated things while blitzed out of his head so this was easy. He removed the kid’s shoes and put them by the end of the bed, before looking up at the boy.

 

His heart clenched as a memory exactly like this hit him full-force, of Cole getting so frustrated in trying to learn how to tie laces that Hank had spent over an hour showing him again and again until he began to get the hang of it.

 

He’d later found out that Cole had dyspraxia, which made a lot of sense.

 

“Hank?” Came a small voice from the bed, and Hank was jerked back to the present. Connor was looking at him with concern, a hand reaching out and stopping just shy of Hank’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

 

Hank realised with a start that his eyes had teared up and he blinked rapidly, clearing his throat.

 

“’m fine. Tired.” He flashed a smile that was probably more of a grimace at Connor and stood, wincing as his knees ached. “You get some sleep, okay? See you in the morning.”

 

He turned and left the room, wiping his eyes roughly and barely catching the,

 

“Goodnight lieutenant.” That followed.

 

Sitting down heavily on the sofa, Hank buried his face in his hands. He’d spent so much time ignoring the memories, trying to drown them out with drink and working himself to exhaustion in an attempt to not let himself dream but it didn’t seem to be working any more.

 

It was fine. One more day and he could go back to suppressing the memories when there was nothing around to remind him.

 

One more day.

 

~*~*~

 

“ _Connor? What are you doing?”_

 

_Connor froze where he laid under the blanket, book held up to his nose so he could read the words. Mom had told him he was very good at reading, but reading in the dark was much harder than in the light._

 

 _He looked over at the doorway where Professor Stern stood. He didn’t think he liked her very much- she was very cold and hard, nothing like his mom who was always smiling and gave the_ best _hugs._

 

_Professor Stern never hugged him. She only touched him if he’d done something bad._

 

“ _Connor. What do you have?” She asked, her voice sounding angry. It had taken Connor a while to realise that voice meant she was angry, it sounded almost exactly like her normal voice._

 

“ _A book.” He whispered, sitting up and ducking his head._

 

_He didn’t know how long he’d been staying with Professor Stern but it seemed like forever. He wanted to go home._

_  
He wanted his mom._

 

“ _What book?” Professor Stern came closer, standing by the bed with her arms crossed._

 

“ _Um. It’s...” He looked down, his favourite book in his hands._

 

“ _Don’t stutter, Connor. Tell me.” Her angry voice was really bad tonight._

 

“ _I-it’s about sharks-” He whispered, holding it up with shaky hands. He didn’t know why he was so scared, it felt like he’d done something bad but he didn’t know_ what _._

 

_Professor Stern stared at him with cold eyes, taking the book from his hands and looking at it like it disgusted her._

 

“ _Really, Connor? This book,” She flicked through the pages before snapping it shut. “Is a silly, useless thing. You do not need it.”_

 

“ _B-but my mom-” Connor protested, reaching out for it although she was much taller than him._

 

“ _Connor, grow up. You do not need this, and you do not need anything to do with your mother anymore.” The way she said the word ‘mother’ made Connor shiver. “Forget this, and forget her. You will be better for it.”_

 

_She turned around and left the room, closing the door with a ‘bang’ and Connor could hear the lock click shut._

 

_He clenched his hands in his lap, looking down as he willed himself not to cry._

_  
_ “Connor, look what I got you!” His mother had looked so _happy_ , holding out a book for him. “Remember when we went to the aquarium? Now you can read all about the sharks in here, just like Finley.”

 

 _Connor missed Finley. His mom had gotten him the whale shark toy when they’d gone to Pirate Island as a surprise for his birthday. He’d forgotten it when she’d ushered him out of the flat, saying that she had to go away for a little while but she’d be back, she_ promised _she’d be back._

 

_Maybe she wasn’t coming back._

 

_Connor threw off the blanket, the pitch black of the room feeling stifling and scary. He crept over the wardrobe, quietly opening it before tucking himself inside next to the shoes._

 

_Burying his face in his knees, Connor wrapped his arms around his legs and began to whisper,_

 

“… _Whale sharks have over th-three thousand teeth, th-they can live up to- to a h-hundred years,” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember everything he could. He wouldn’t forget._

 

_~*~*~_

 

Connor wasn’t sure when he woke up, but he felt shaky and out of breath and sick. He sat up, completely forgetting where he was before there was a noise beside him and he saw Sumo raise his big fluffy head and look at him.

 

Suddenly the room seemed to small and Connor couldn’t breath, clenching his injured hands into fists as he looked around. He spotted Finley and the tablet his mom- his _mom_ \- had left him and he grabbed both of them before sliding off of the bed, looking around until he spotted the big wardrobes opposite the bed.

 

At least that was familiar.

 

~*~*~

 

Hank woke with a start to the sound of grinding metal and his sons screams echoing in his ears. He sat up, gripping his hair with both hands and yanking it in an attempt to ground him in the present. Swinging his legs off the sofa he sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes and trying to ignore how shaky he felt. It suddenly hit him that he hadn’t had a drink in over a day and for a second he felt oddly proud of himself, before realising that the shivers going through his body were probably at least slightly related to alcohol withdrawal.

 

Something gripped onto his shirt sleeve and pulled and Hank nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping his hands to see Sumo tugging on his sleeve with his teeth.

 

“Hey Sumo.” He said quietly, petting the dog gently. Sumo seemed to have a sixth sense for nightmares and was usually the one to wake him up when they got bad.

 

This time just the knowledge that Hank was awake didn’t seem to calm Sumo and he kept tugging on his sleeve, as if trying to lead him somewhere.

 

“Sumo- Sumo, what-” He said, confused- until he remembered Connor. “Is it Connor?”  


Sumo whined loudly, letting go of Hank’s sleeve to let out a quiet ‘boof’ and stepping back towards the hallway.

 

Hank stood, trying to shove the dream out of his mind as he followed the dog into his room, which was empty. He swore quietly, looking around before realising that Connor’s shoes were still by the bed- at least that meant he probably hadn’t left the house.

 

“Connor?” He said quietly, realising a moment later that Sumo was scratching at one of the closet doors and whining quietly.

 

Approaching the closet door, Hank sank to the floor beside it and gently knocked on the wood.

 

“Connor,” He started, looking down at his hands. “You don’t have to come out, okay? Just… just knock back, let me know you’re okay?”

 

There was a few seconds of silence before a quiet knock sounded from the inside and Hank nearly sighed with relief.

 

“Okay. Okay, good.” Looking around the room, Hank noticed that both the shark and the tablet were gone from the bed. “You got your shark?”

 

There was another silence before a very small voice came from inside.

 

“His… his name is Finley.”

 

Hank gave a tired smile, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

 

“Yeah? That’s a pretty cool name.” Silence. “You wanna tell me why you’re in there?”

 

A moment later, the reply came.

 

“I had a nightmare.” It was barely there, almost masked by Sumo’s heavy breathing just outside the closet door.

 

“Shit Connor, I’m sorry.” He replied, too tired to censor himself. It didn’t seem like Connor minded, after all. If he even knew what swear words were. “… Y’know, I get nightmares sometimes.”

 

The closet door just _barely_ creaked open, a sliver of light just visible through it. From what he could see it looked like Connor had the table on his lap, his shark sandwiched between his jaw and his shoulder as a makeshift pillow.

 

“… _-you Jerry!”_

 

He was watching the video his mom had made, of course.

 

““ _No problem miss! You want anything else just let me know, y’hear?”_

 

Hank let the video play itself out, waiting for the end.

 

“ _I love you mommy!”_

 

The audio stopped, and Hank heard a small sniff from inside the closet.

 

“Wh-what do you dream about?” Connor asked, voice unsteady as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

 

Hank looked away, unable to face him. He looked down at his hands, at the scar that crossed one of his palms from the car accident that took everything away from him.

 

“I had a kid,” He started, feeling the words choke him as he spoke. He was tired, so tired. “He was your age. His name was-” Hank swallowed, looking up to the ceiling and wishing his eyes weren’t feeling so damp.

 

Connor watched him through the crack in the door, pressing the video to play again.

 

“ _Okay Connor, are you ready? And… open!”_

 

“What happened?” Connor whispered, seemingly comforted by his mother’s voice. The mother he’d almost forgotten about, would have forgotten if Stern had had her way.

 

“Car accident. He’s gone.” He didn’t feel like giving Connor the full story, it wasn’t like Connor would understand what losing a child felt like.

 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” The kid said quietly, pressing play on the video again as it ended.

 

“ _Happy birthday, sweetheart.”_

 

Hank shrugged, feeling exhausted. Sumo huffed at him, laying his head on Hank’s lap and looking up at him with soulful eyes as if to say, ‘Now I have two of you to look after?’

 

“His name was Cole.” He murmured, running his hand over Sumo’s head. The only sound he could hear was the video on the tablet as Connor played it over and over again.

 

Hank couldn’t say when he fell asleep, slumped against the wall by the closet, but the sun was shining through the curtain when he woke up to a weight by his side. He immediately assumed it was Sumo but the dog was half-across his lap, asleep.

  
Looking down, he realised that at some point during the night Connor had emerged from the wardrobe and had managed to wedge himself under Hank’s arm, falling asleep against his side.

 

Hank’s heart fucking _hurt_. One one hand he felt the urge to get up and run, maybe drown himself at a local bar until he forgot what feelings were.

 

On the other hand, there was Connor. He seemed to be fast asleep, face relaxed as he dozed while sitting upright with Sumo’s head on his lap and one small hand buried in his fur.

 

“ _There is still stuff out there for you,” Traci had said once as they sat at a bar together, waiting for her then-girlfriend to get them drinks. “You’ve just gotta find it.”_

 

_Hank had shaken his head, staring down into his empty glass._

 

“ _There’s nothing for me out there anymore.” He’d muttered in reply, feeling empty and hollow. It was a feeling that had persisted ever since Cole died and he’d started to accept that it was just how he was now. Hollow._

 

“ _You’ll never know if you don’t look, dumbass.” Traci- the brown-haired one- had rolled her eyes, reaching over and tapping him on the head with her empty glass. “There’ll be something.”_

 

It had been years since that conversation and Hank had been steadfast in his argument. He’d genuinely believed that there was nothing for him in the world now than work and his dog, and when Sumo eventually kicked it? There was just work.

 

It wasn’t an existence.

 

More than once Hank had considered just ending it all. He had the stuff to do it- a police issue weapon, more medication from the car accident than he ever needed, hell he had a full set of kitchen knives if it came down to it.

 

It was part of the reason why he’d put away the one photo of Cole he’d had out from the funeral. Every time he looked at his son’s smiling face, he’d wanted so _badly_ to join him.

 

Because really, what else was there for him?

 

But now, with this kid- this kid who’d been abused, emotionally and physically for so long, who’d lost the only family he had, who so blindly trusted him after only spending a few hours with him- it felt like he could have something again.

 

Connor wasn’t his son. Connor wasn’t Cole.

 

He knew that.

 

But Connor was the only person Hank knew who had even an inkling of what it was like to be alone.

 

With sudden clarity, Hank knew what he was going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm... well, I'm me, I'm not 101% happy with how this came out but it's been over a week and I am /really/ trying to do regular updates for you guys! So I hope ya'll like it. I might re-write it later.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast, a mall trip and an altercation at the precinct.

Hank couldn’t tell you when he fell asleep again but when he woke up, Connor wasn’t there. Neither was Sumo.

 

He stood up, wincing at the cracking noise his joints made- he was barely forty, why was he like this?- and checked the closet, then the bed, then the bathroom. It was then he noticed the smell coming from the kitchen.

 

The worst scenarios immediately entered his head- Connor somehow setting fire to something, somehow turning the gas oven on or the stove on, trying to use the toaster and it breaking- and he was somehow still surprised when he entered the kitchen and found Connor standing on a chair by the stove, still in his pyjamas with Sumo next to him on the floor.

 

“Connor?” Hank said, stepping into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

 

Connor turned on the chair, holding a spatula in one still-bandaged hand. The other- to Hank’s immediate fuckin’ heart attack, if the sudden shock of fear in his chest was any indication- was holding the handle of the cast iron frying pan, which weighed a tonne and did not look safe perched on the stove in the hands of a _six year old_.

 

“I am making breakfast Lieutenant- what are yo-” Connor squeaked in surprise as Hank rushed over, taking the spatula and the frying pan out of his hands before lifting Connor into the air and placing him on the floor. He turned the stove off, shoving the pan to the back of the stove before turning to face the kid.

 

“Why- you-” Hank waved his hands, trying to formulate his thoughts into something coherent. “Why were you using the stove?! It’s dangerous!”

 

Connor frowned, although with his rather baby-ish face it looked more like a pout. If he hadn’t been so freaked out, Hank would have laughed.

 

“I am capable of using the stove, Lieutenant. I am not an infant.”

 

Hank stared at him, all words vacating his head for a good few seconds. In that time, Connor seemed to realise that he’d done something wrong and averted his eyes, shuffling his feet a little.

 

“I… I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” His voice was a little muffled as he looked down and a little of Hank’s resolve dimmed with it. “I wanted to thank-you by making- making breakfast, but it seems I-”

 

“Connor,” Hank put up a hand, the shock leaving his body as he slumped against the kitchen counted and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “Stop. You don’t have to apologise, and you _definitely_ don’t have to make me breakfast. That pan is heavy as hell, how did you even get it up there?” He gestured to the pan on the stove, which was slowly cooling down.

 

Connor looked up, a little of the nervousness from before dissipating as he did.

 

“Um. I utilised the edges of the cupboards and drawers to make it easier.” He slowly reached out to the cupboards, as if to demonstrate. When Hank didn’t move to stop him his movements grew more confident and he showed how he’d managed to get the large pan from the cupboard up there.

 

Hank watched, genuinely surprised by the boy’s ingenuity. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed Connor’s problem solving- at the station he’d used the drawers by Hank’s desk to climb onto a chair far too high for him. He definitely seemed to like climbing things, something that Hank would bet that Amanda hadn’t encouraged at all.

 

His thoughts from last night came back and he frowned, trying to formulate them in more detail than his nightmare-ridden 3AM brain had allowed.

 

“Lieutenant?” Connor’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and Hank looked down to see a flash of worry cross Connor’s face. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood the rules and I won’t do it again.”

 

Awh fuck.

 

Hank was a pretty tough guy but his resolve couldn’t hold up to fuckin’ _puppy-dog eyes._ How d’you think Sumo got so chubby.

 

“It’s fine Connor. You’re good.” He reached down, ruffling Connor’s hair and inwardly sniggering as his nose scrunched up. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, more… confused. “How about I make breakfast and you supervise?”

 

Connor seemed to brighten up a little at the suggestion and he nodded.

 

“’Kay, good. Then after that we’re gonna change the bandages on your hands, okay?” Again, Connor nodded before climbing back up on to the chair.

 

Hank turned the stove furthest away from Connor on and moved the pan back over it, pulling plates from the cupboard a moment later.

 

“Cutlery is in the drawer to your left, you got that?” He said over his shoulder as he put the plates down, glancing over to see Connor pull the drawer open.

 

“Yes Lieutenant.” Was the reply, before Connor looked up a little nervously. “Um, Hank.”

 

Hank shot him a small smile before moving back to the pan. The breakfast didn’t take long to cook and Hank fashioned it into bacon sandwiches, saving half a slice for Sumo. They sat at the table as they ate, Connor with more enthusiasm than Hank had seen since the boy met Sumo.

 

“How often d’you usually eat?” Hank asked, realising he hadn’t seen the boy eat a thing since the night before although he had been offered it.

 

Connor looked up from his food, glancing a way for a second as if calculating.

 

“My routine was that I would wake up and make Professor Stern breakfast ready for her leaving at seven thirty AM. Then I would have breakfast when she left, and then lunch at twelve thirty. When she returned it would… depend on what she wanted. If I had been bad then I would not get dinner. But sometimes,” His face creased a little, looking upset. “I think she would forget. Or not want me to eat. I do not know why.” He poked at his food with his fork, seeming confused if anything.

 

Hank didn’t feel hungry anymore.

 

“I know why.” He said, putting his fork down and watching as Connor looked up in surprise. “That woman, Connor? She was what we police call ‘an abusive bitch’. Don’t repeat that.” He pointed at the boy, trying to look stern.

 

“What does bitch mean?” Connor tilted his head, looking innocent.

 

“Shit- I, uh,” Hank momentarily panicked before noticing the almost mischievous glint to the boy’s eyes. “Was that a joke?”

 

Connor looked down, a very small shy smile on his face.

 

“A bitch is the term for a female dog, otter or fox. Although I don’t see how it applies to Professor Stern.”

 

Hank decided not to educate him further on this opinion.

 

After they’d both finished breakfast, Hank instructed Connor to go sit on the couch while he retrieved his meagre first aid kit from one of the kitchen cupboards. He’d texted one of the Traci’s earlier to ask the best thing to put on Connor’s burns would be and had gotten an almost immediate reply, then another slightly less angry and more coherent one a few minutes later.

 

**Hank: what should I put on connors hands**

 

**TraciBr: wtf y are you awakw so early**

 

**Hank: its 8am**

 

Several minutes passed.

 

**TraciBl: You’re alive?? at 8am????**

 

Hank rolled his eyes.

 

**Hank: no, i’m texting from hell. What should I put on connor’s hands/?**

 

**TraciBl: Kid from last night?**

 

**TraciBl: burns were pretty superficial so antiseptic cream should do**

 

**TraciBl: why do you have him?**

 

**Hank: why does it matter?**

 

**TraciBl: okaaay. Keep us updated Anderson**

 

Hank snorted after re-reading the texts, putting his phone down as he went through the first aid kit. He found an unopened tube of antiseptic cream with a good year or so on the expiration date and a roll of sterile bandages still in a package, taking both over to Connor after washing his hands.

 

“’kay, I’m gonna take the bandages off your hands, put this stuff on then wrap them up again. Hows that sound?” He asked, kneeling in front of Connor and holding up the objects.

 

Connor’s analytical eyes moved from one to the other and he nodded before holding up his hands. They were gently unwrapped and he turned them over in front of his face, frowning as he took in the red, blistered skin.

 

“Do they hurt?” Hank asked as he unscrewed the cap of the antiseptic.

 

“A little. I have had worse though.” Connor replied quietly, flexing his fingers and wincing a little.

 

Hank’s face must have visibly fallen as Connor looked a little panicked when he looked up.

 

“I- I mean, when I have fallen and… things.” He finished lamely, avoiding Hank’s eyes.

 

Hank sighed in resignation- he didn’t know what Stern had put Connor through beforehand and, as much as his trained mind had tried to speculate, he’d tried to hold it back.

 

Connor took having the cream put on his hands surprisingly well, watching every movement of Hank’s hands on his carefully- although Hank had had to put a stop to him raising his hand and apparently trying to _lick it_.

 

“Woah, hey. There’s types of cream for eating and this isn’t one of them.” He’d said in a slight panic, grasping the boy’s wrists and bringing his hands down.

 

“I wasn’t going to eat it...” Connor said, sounding almost petulant. The emotion was a nice change, at least.

 

“Mhm, sure. Almost done.” Hank tried to mimic the careful wrapping of the paramedics from the night before and liked to think he’d succeeded, although the bandages were maybe a little untidier. “’kay, how bout you go get dressed- ah shit.”

 

“What is it, lieuten- Hank?” Connor asked, sounding confused.

 

“Uh, nothing. Just realised we don’t have any clothes for you.” Hank scratch his head as he considered his options. Connor couldn’t spend all his time in pyjamas but there was no way in hell anything Hank had would fit him, and he’d given all of Cole’s clothes to Goodwill in the weeks after he’d died. All that was left in that room now was the furniture and some toys he couldn’t bear to part with.

 

“I’m alright in my pyjamas, I don’t want to bother you.” Was Connor’s quiet reply, and Hank shook his head, clearing his thoughts a little.

 

“Nah, no chance. I have work in...” He glanced up at the clock on the wall, hoping it still kept the right time. “Ugh, six hours. We’ll wait ‘til traffic calms down then go get you some clothes, okay? Go get washed up, we’ll leave soon.”

 

Connor nodded, sliding off the sofa and going to Hank’s room with Sumo trailing just behind him.

 

Hank took a moment to collapse onto the sofa and put his head in his hands, breathing deeply. Last night he’d been so sure that he was going to do the right thing but was it the right thing? It had been years since Cole had died and he still could barely stand to look in the room, let alone enter it but Connor couldn’t stay in Hank’s room forever.

 

Resigning himself to a morning of overthinking, Hank went to the pile of thankfully clean washing in the basket by the back door and pulled out an outfit, changing into it as fast as he could before Connor came back in. He was buttoning up his overshirt when the boy returned, hair brushed back but already falling over his forehead in gentle curls.

 

“You ready?” Hank asked, running a hand through his own tangled hair. The kid nodded, one hand still in the long fur around Sumo’s neck. “Go to the closet in the hallway, there’s a red and black harness and a lead. I’ll show you how to put it on him.”

  
Connor nodded eagerly, leaving for the hallway immediately. He returned a few minutes later clutching Sumo’s harness, a questioning expression on his face.

 

Hank knelt, a corner of his mouth lifting in a smile as Sumo’s tail thumped on the floor.

 

“’kay, first you put this bit on his back,” He demonstrated, bringing the straps of the harness around Sumo’s chest. “Then clip these together. Then this bit,” He took part of the neck hole, gesturing for Connor to clip it shut. “Goes around his neck.”

 

“Does it hurt him?” Connor asked, looking worried as he held the two parts of the clip.

 

“Nah. This kinda harness doesn’t hurt, unless he tangles himself on something and gets stuck. Plus he has too much fur for anything to get to him.” Hank tugged the harness gently, making sure it was done up before clipping the lead to the ring on the back.

 

Connor watched as he stood, eyes straying to the words on the harness.

 

“Hank?” He asked quietly, offering a hand when Sumo approached. “Why does his vest say emotional support?”

 

Hank paused- he knew the question would come, Connor was far too inquisitive to not ask. He just wasn’t too sure how to answer.

 

“Uh… Sumo is specially trained to live with someone who. Who finds it difficult to...” He scratched the back of his head, letting the lead drop to the floor as he fetched his coat. “If something bad happens and a person finds it hard to be around people, but they still need someone. They can get an emotional support animal.”

 

When he turned back, Connor looked stricken.

 

“I-” He stammered, his hands coming up to grasp eachother. “I, um, I’m sorry if- if you find it hard to be around, around me, I didn’t mean to-”

 

“Woah, kid, calm down,” Hank came back over, kneeling in front of Connor and holding his hands up placatingly. “That was just an example. I don’t… I -” He huffed, not used to baring his emotions to this (admittedly low, but it was still something) level. “Do you find it hard to be around me?”

 

Connor immediately shook his head.

 

“But you really like having Sumo around? He makes you feel better?” Hank continued, waiting for Connor to hesitantly nod before continuing. “Being around some people is really hard. But dogs are a lot easier.” He paused for a moment before settling a hand on Connor’s hair, gently ruffling it from its swept back style. “Sumo makes things easier. And you’re not people, you’re Connor. There’s a difference.”

 

Connor looked at him for a few moments before back down at Sumo, nodding once.

 

“I think I understand.” He said quietly, before bending to pick up the lead.

 

They walked to the mall, Sumo happily plodding along beside Connor as he walked. He spent a lot of the walk looking around and asking questions, encouraged by Hank. It was blatantly obvious that he rarely went outside- if his pale skin was anything to go by, and Stern’s militant behaviour only seemingly letting him outside for events she attended.

 

They passed a large house with a garden bigger than Hank’s whole property and Connor pointed to a flower peeking through the barred fence.

 

“That’s a rhododendron,” He announced, oblivious to Hank’s surprised look. “They’re most commonly found in Asia. It’s nice that someone has them here.”

 

“How’d you know that, Connor?” Hank asked, watching as the boy stood on his toes in an attempt to see more of the garden.

  
“Professor Stern had a library full of books. She said I wasn’t allowed to read anything she hadn’t assigned me,” His voice dropped and he looked around nervously as if he was expecting Stern to emerge from a bush. “But when she was at work, I went in and I read as much as I could. She had a book on plants, it had nice pictures.”

 

Hank smiled a little at the kid’s rebellious streak, although him breaking into a library didn’t quite compare to what Hank got up to when he was younger. That was probably a good thing.

 

“Yeah? That’s pretty cool. We can stop by a book store at the mall if you wanna get something?”

 

Connor looked surprised for a moment before he shook his head, continuing the walk as if he’d never stopped.

 

“No, I am okay. You shouldn’t have to buy me things.” He announced, although there was longing in his eyes.

 

“Trust me kid, I don’t own many books. And you’ve been pretty damn well behaved, I’d say you deserve a treat.” Hank reasoned, trying to sound as casual as he could.

 

They reached the mall quickly, Connor walking surprisingly fast on his small legs, and only had a minor argument with a mall cop who wasn’t paying attention to Sumo’s vest. It ended when Hank flashed his badge at him, making a mental note to report the dumbass in case he’d try it with a service dog next time.

 

Hank steered Connor towards a clothes shop first with the instruction to find whatever he liked. The kid had looked at him with an unreadable expression before going to the area for smart clothes and staring at the shirts for a moment. All that had been in his closet at Stern’s house had been smart clothes and pyjamas, Hank realised.

 

“You sure you want that?” Hank followed him, looking around the store. “You don’t have to wear what she made you wear, Connor. You can get anything.”

 

Connor looked up at him with that odd expression again before cautiously approaching a rail with jeans on. He ran his fingers over the fabric, rubbing it between his bare fingertips with an almost analysing expression on his face. He then went to a t-shirt rail with a little more confidence, almost losing his shit when he spotted a t-shirt with sharks on.

 

In Connor terms, ‘losing his shit’ meant that his face lit up and he sort of flailed his hands around in silent excitement while looking at Hank and pointing to the shirt.

  
“It’s a great white shark!” He managed to get out, grabbing the t-shirt and looking at it closer. “They can grow up to fifteen feet in length and have up to 3000 teeth, although they lose them continuously and grow new ones.”

 

A staff member hanging things up nearby stared at Connor, then looked at Hank. Hank shrugged, then whispered,

 

“He likes sharks.” He then turned back to Connor, the kid still marvelling at his find. “You wanna get that?”

 

Connor jumped, as if he’d forgotten Hank was there for a moment.

 

“It’s… it’s very nice. But I don’t need it.” He went to put it back, only to be stopped by Hank’s hand on his arm.

 

“So? You like it, you need clothes. You get it.” Hank shrugged, pushing the t-shirt into Connor’s arms.

 

The look of confusion and awe on Connor’s face would stay with him for the rest of the day.

 

They ended up getting him a basket of stuff- two other t-shirts joined the shark one, including a purple one spotted with jellyfish that a staff member pointed out had come from the girl’s section but Hank couldn’t give less of a shit- a few pairs of jeans, socks and underwear following as well as a pair of sneakers.

 

Hank took Connor to get changed in a bathroom at the mall, waiting patiently outside the stall with Sumo for him and listening to him rattle off facts about sharks.

 

“- and although great white sharks are at the top of the food chain in the ocean, human fears of them are illogical as there are so few attacks on humans a year and it’s rare that they’re even fatal.” The door opened and Connor stepped out, his pyjamas neatly folded in his hands and dressed in his brand new outfit.

 

Hank cracked a grin- he looked like an actual little boy now, not whatever obedient shell Stern had tried to turn him into.

 

“Looking good, kid.” He ruffled Connor’s hair, huffing a laugh when the boy attempted to push it back. “C’mon, we’ll go to the bookstore then take Sumo home.”

 

The trip to the bookstore was just as successful, Connor ignoring the children’s section completely and heading for a fact book section instead. He chose (under Hank’s encouragement) several books to keep him going, mostly about marine life and one about dogs which made Hank smile.

 

They stopped by Hank’s house so Connor could drop his new belongings off and Sumo off, before leaving for the station.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

Hank would like to say that he could hold his temper well.

 

He’d be wrong if he said it, but he’d like to.

 

It had started so well- they’d gotten to the station in almost record time from the mall, Connor quietly running his hands over his new clothes with an expression close to awe, then not catching sound nor sight of Reed since entering the building. A glance into Fowler’s office told him the social worker had arrived- a middle-aged woman who seemed to always be on duty and took on more than half of the child victims of cases- and she and Fowler glanced up as Hank entered, Fowler gesturing for him to join them.

 

Hank lead them to his desk and lifted Connor onto the chair without a second thought, although the surprised look on the kid’s face made him note to check with him next time.

 

“Okay, Connor.” He knelt before the boy. “I need you to do something for me.”

 

Connor’s wide eyes found his and he nodded seriously.

 

“I need you,” Hank pulled a new notebook out of the drawers of the desk, placing it in front of Connor with a pencil. “To write down every single type of shark you can think of.”

 

If possible, Connor’s eyes seemed to get even wider. It was blatantly, painfully obvious that he had been dying for someone to listen to his favourite subject and now he had someone he couldn’t quite believe it.

 

“Every one?” He asked quietly, looking at the paper.

 

“Every single one. And if you finish, write, uh… two facts about them all. Can you do that?” Hank asked, trying to sound serious.

 

Connor nodded rapidly, fingers twitching to pick up the pencil.

 

“Knew you could, kid. I’ve gotta go talk to Fowler for a bit, okay? I won’t be long.”

 

Connor’s gaze snapped to him and for a moment he looked upset, before his usual blank expression seemed to take over.

 

“I’ll- I’ll be fine.” He nodded as if reassuring himself, then picked up the pencil.

 

Hank watched him for a moment as he began to write before quickly and gently tussling the boy’s hair for a moment. He then turned and approached Fowler’s office, the slip of paper in his pocket feeling like it was burning a hole through it.

 

Both people in the office turned to him as he entered, the social worker stepping forward in greeting.

 

“Lieutenant Anderson, it’s good to see you again.” She said, a thin smile on her face as she offered a hand. “Captain Fowler tells me you’ve been looking after the boy?”

 

Hank shook her hand and nodded, glancing at Fowler who was looking at him with an almost analytical gaze.

 

“You too. And yeah, we figured three in the morning probably wasn’t the best time to call you guys and he seemed to like me.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “He’s been good so far, only problem was he had a nightmare and shut himself in the wardrobe for half the night but he was easy to get out.”

 

The social worker- Caroline, that was her name- nodded, pulling a pen from her jacket breast pocket and noting something down on the folder she carried.

 

“I’ll need a copy of your formal report as well as a profile on what you’ve found out on Connor, if you could get those to me today that would really help me speed up finding him a foster home.” She murmured, glancing up at Hank.

 

“Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his other hand reaching into his pocket and drawing out a slip of folded paper. “It’s, uh. It’s been a few years but I guess the procedures are the same?”

 

Caroline eyed him for a moment before taking the paper and unfolding it, her pale eyes running over the words.

 

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a fosterer, Lieutenant?” She looked up at him over her glasses, gaze moving to Fowler as he made an exasperated noise.

 

“Hank, I thought we talked about this-”

 

“Yeah we did, Jeffrey. We ‘talked’ about how he isn’t- isn’t Cole.” Hank stared at him, daring him to say more. “I’m not blind or delusional, I know who he is. But Connor- he’s a special kid. He needs someone who gets that, and-”

 

“And you do, do you?” Fowler raised his voice slightly, oblivious to Caroline’s disapproving stare. “This is why I wanted you off this case, I knew you’d get too close. I’m giving it to Ben, you’re going to hand that kid to social and you’re going back on homicide-”

 

“Like hell I am!” Hank raised his voice to match, stepping forward. “You can’t stop me from taking the kid or this case, I’m not letting either of them go-”

 

“You’re not _thinking_ straight Hank, how much have you had to drink today?!”

 

“Oh up yours, you self righteous-”

 

“Gentlemen!” Caroline’s voice cut over both of the men’s and they stepped apart, feeling chastised. “This is all very dramatic but it is _not needed right now_. You are at work, for goodness sake. Have some self control.” She shook her head, re-reading Hank’s foster licence. “Captain Fowler, do you have any reason to believe that Lieutenant Anderson would not be an appropriate carer for Connor?”

 

Hank looked at Fowler, feeling his heart drop to somewhere around his stomach. With one sentence the man could ruin his chances of taking Connor in for good, perhaps have his foster licence revoked, even.

 

Fowler looked at him for a few moments, an analytical look on his face before he slowly shook his head.

 

“No. He’s a good man and a great parent,” His gaze moved from Hank to Caroline. “I knew him when he had his last kid and you couldn’t find a happier one.”

  
Caroline looked between the two men for a moment before nodding.

 

“Lieutenant, I’ll need your reference to get in touch with me before the end of the day and I’ll need you to come and speak to me at my office tomorrow morning, if you’re able. Connor can come with you of course, and you can bring any paperwork you don’t send me tonight, tomorrow. Alright?”

 

Hank nodded, feeling immensely grateful that Fowler hadn’t decided to scrap his chances.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He replied, tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding deflating. He’d have Connor, at least for now. He wasn’t losing another kid.

 

A knock at the door made him jump and he turned to see Reed step through the door. It wasn’t quite enough to ruin his steadily climbing mood, but it was approaching it.

 

“Captain, there’s a bunch of journalists outside asking for you. Think it’s about that professor?” He reported, eyes darting to Hank as if accusing. “Anderson should probably handle it.”

 

Fowler sighed, well aware of the animosity between the two men and very much fed up with it.

 

“I’ll get Miller on it. Hank, finish things with Caroline. I’ll be right back.” He left the office, leaving Reed standing in the doorway and watching the two other people inside.

 

“I’ll need visit your home to check suitability tomorrow, and as well as a copy of the case files I’ll need your medical history and all information you can give on your past foster children,” Caroline made a short list on a notebook she’d pulled from a pocket, tearing the page off and handing it over. “If you can bring those to my office and we’ll do the visit afterwards. Alright?”  


Hank took the list, having a moment of internal panic at the mention of a home visit before nodding. He could sort out the house overnight, it wasn’t as if it was a total shit hole.

 

Caroline said her goodbyes after her phone rang, the person on the other end calling her away to another case. She pushed past Reed, who was still loitering in the doorway and watching Hank with narrowed eyes.

 

“Past foster kids? Hank...” He straightened up, approaching Hank who was watching him with an unimpressed look. “Really? All those drinks must’ve really fucked you up if you think this is a good-”

 

“Fuck sake Reed,” Hank growled, shoving past Reed to get out of the office. The man didn’t get the hint as he only followed Hank out, still talking.

 

“-idea, it’s cute that you think you’re a good dad and all that shit but-”

 

“Reed, back _off_ -” Hank turned, stepping into Reed’s space as the idiot just _kept talking_.

 

“- you can’t look after him, moron, just like you couldn’t look after Cole-”

 

Again, Hank would like to say he could hold his temper well. But as his fist met Gavin’s face, he knew it wasn’t true.

 

The fight itself didn’t last long, especially as they were in a police precinct full of combat trained officers, several of which were loitering nearby. It mostly consisted of Reed swearing and lunging for him, landing a slightly unsteady punch before getting pulled away by Chris, who sent an exasperated look at Hank as he hauled him away.

 

Hank shook his hand out, startling a little when he heard his name shouted from across the precinct by two different voices.

 

“Lieutenant!” He turned to see Connor standing on his chair, watching him with wide, worried eyes. “Are you al-”

 

“Anderson **!** ” And that was Fowler, presumably back from the press conference and with rage in his eyes. “Chen, take him to cool off. Miller, get Reed some ice, you’re all a bunch of _fucking_ _children_!” He stormed off to his office as Officer Chen, took Hank’s arm, leading him to an empty interrogation room.

 

“What were you thinking Hank?” She said under her breath as she lead him away.

 

“Tina, you have to get Connor, I can’t leave him alone in there-”

 

“Connor? The kid?” Tina let go of his arm as they reached the interview room, which had become the equivalent of ‘Time Out’ at the station. “I’ll get Chris to watch him, there’s no way Fowler’s gonna let you keep an eye on him after you just _punched Gavin_.”

 

Hank started to protest but knew she was right- the adrenalin from the albeit short fight was still thrumming through his veins and he felt shaky, slightly sick. Suddenly the possible repercussions of it hit him and oh _shit,_ what if Fowler took back what he said to Caroline, what if they took Connor away-

  
“Woah Hank calm down, c’mon,” Tina’s hands were on his shoulders and he turned his head to look at her. “Hank, you’ve stopped breathing. Can you start again?”

 

When had he done that?

 

Hank nodded, inhaling slowly.

 

“Good, that’s good. You okay?”

 

He nodded, running shaky hands over his face.

 

“Okay. I’m gonna go tell Chris to watch the kid, then I’m gonna talk to Fowler. I’ll be right back.”

 

Hank sank into one of the chairs in the room, leaning his head on his hands and pushing his palms into his eyes until he saw stars.

 

God, he’d fucked up.

 

He got so lost in the sudden spiral of negativity and self-hating thoughts that he barely noticed the door creaking open slowly.

 

“What did Fowler say?” He asked hoarsely, not looking up.

 

“I- I think he’s angry.” Came the small voice and Hank jerked his head up to see Connor standing in the doorway, looking afraid and not meeting his eyes.

  
“Connor? How’d you get in here?” He asked, straightening up. The kid didn’t have anyone with him so he must have snuck off, although how he managed to escape a bullpen full of police officers was… impressive, to say the least.

 

Connor shrugged, advancing further into the room and closing the door behind him.

 

“They started arguing again. I said I was going to go to the bathroom but I saw where Officer Chen brought you so I copied her.” His bandaged hands fidgeted, Connor seemingly no longer forcing himself to stop the habit. “Are- are you alright, Hank?”

 

Hank stared at him for a few seconds, the small, nervous boy who had just seem him nearly floor a grown man coming to check if he was okay.

 

“Hank?” Connor repeated, stepping forward so he was only a foot or so away. Even with Hank sitting down, the boy was still so tiny.

 

“I’m fine kid.” He attempted a smile, reaching forward and ruffling Connor’s hair. “’s just sometimes Reed can, uh… get under my skin. Not literally,” He backtracked when Connor looked alarmed. “It’s a saying for when someone really gets to you. In a bad way.”

 

Connor nodded, moving so he was leaning against one of Hank’s legs. He seemed tired, which was no surprise given that his sleep schedule was way off whack and he’d spent half the night awake from a nightmare.

 

“You okay kid?” Hank asked, settling a hand on his shoulder.

 

Connor nodded, staring at nothing.

 

“I think I understand. Professor Stern was very good at ‘getting under my skin’.” He murmured, gently rubbing one of his eyes with a bandaged hand.

 

Hank nodded sadly, squeezing Connor’s shoulder gently.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s very good at that.” He replied, hesitating for a moment before hooking his hands under Connor’s arms and pulling him up into his lap. “You tired?”

 

Connor seemed a little surprised at the movement but allowed it to happen, nodding and giving a small yawn once he was settled. There was a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence before he spoke, quieter this time.

 

“Lieutenant?”

 

Hank looked down, waiting for Connor to continue.

 

“I… when I was waiting for you, I saw a news report on the television.” He started to pick at the fabric of his new jeans, avoiding Hank’s eyes. “It was about Professor Stern, but they mentioned- they mentioned my mom.” His voice cracked a little and he looked up, eyes slightly watery. “Professor Stern said she was never coming back but- but I always hoped she would. But she isn’t, is she? She’s- she’s gone. Forever.”

 

Hank pulled Connor closer, closing his eyes as they started to sting. He didn’t know exactly what Connor knew on the idea of death, but even a very intelligent child would struggle with the idea of someone just being _gone_.

 

“Yeah. She’s gone. But Connor,” He rested a hand on Connor’s hair, waiting for a noise of confirmation to show he was listening, “It’s not your fault. And it’s not hers. You know I said she came really close to finding you?” Connor nodded. “The whole time Stern had you, your mom was trying to get you back. But Stern is a very hard person to go up against-”

 

“But you did,” Connor interrupted, a rare event in of itself. He didn’t seem to notice the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. “You- you came and found me, and when she escaped you got her-”

 

“It’s not the same,” Hank said gently, finding a probably ancient pack of tissues in his coat pocket and passing one to Connor. “Connor, it’s because of your mom that I found you. I had all her notes, all her research, everything I needed to use _as_ _a detective._ f I hadn’t then it would have taken a lot longer, and she had all that but she didn’t have my job. Your mom is gone,” Connor sniffed, rubbing his nose. “But she found you in the end.”

 

Connor didn’t say anything, only leaned into Hank’s chest as he quietly cried. Hank put his other arm around the boy, resting his chin on his head and closing his eyes.

 

On the other side of the glass of the interview room window, Fowler watched the two interact. He’d had concerns about Hank taking in a kid, especially after he punched Gavin in front of the boy, but this was more emotion than Hank had showed since his kid died and he had to admit it was a damn nice change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! How's it going, happy year year ya'll! My resolution is to /upload more @myself are you kidding me/.  
> I have been writing this since November but Christmas happened and uh. Yeah. I did, however, go to London SeaLife recently so you have that to thank for giving me a kick up the arse to write this :D The whole way around I was just plotting this, thinking of Connor.  
> Connor may be seeming to have mixed feelings on his mom but he is confused- he spent three years trying to not forget her and hoping she was coming for him, almost forgot her, got rescued and told that she wasn’t coming and now he’s not sure what to think. He does love her and knows she wanted the best for him but his lil child mind doesn’t understand why she couldn’t rescue him or why she’s now gone.  
> Connor isn’t spooked by Hank shouting because Amanda never shouted, only had her ~angry voice~. He also isn’t afraid of swearing because again, Amanda never did it so he was never exposed to it and doesn’t relate it to bad stuff.
> 
> Like with JWTSYM, I now have a chapter count! We have two more to go but fear not, I have at least 3 oneshots for this series planned so it is not over yet. Plus I always love prompts and ideas so if anyone has anything they’d like to see please do let me know! Please! I love requests and I love writing!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consequences, moving on, and Kamski. Not particularly in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait for this, I've had a big chunk of writers block sitting on me for a good few weeks and am only now /finally/ shifting it.  
> The chapter count may change depending on how long the next/possibly final chapter turns out!

Hank was suspended.

 

It really didn’t come as a surprise. He and Reed had been reprimanded for arguing before and had both been warned on multiple occasions, but apparently punching your dickhead antagonising colleague in the face was grounds for suspension.

 

It was a wonder that it hadn’t happened before, honestly.

 

Tina had opened the door to the interrogation/time out room, not looking at all surprise to see Connor in there with Hank, and let them know that Fowler needed to talk to him in his office. This time he kept a firm hold of Connor’s hand as they approached the glass-walled room, glancing around and noting that Reed was absent.

 

“Good luck.” Tina murmured as she left them by the office, going to her desk instead.

 

The ‘meeting’ was shorter and less argumentative than Hank had expected. The altercation would be written up and both detectives were suspended for the same amount as time- two weeks, Fowler had decided- as everyone in the precinct agreed on what had happened and a lot of them were actually on Hank’s side, which was a surprise.

 

“Hank?” Connor said quietly as they left the office, hand still latched onto one of Hank’s. He hadn’t let go since they left the time out room and was looking tired, leaning against Hank’s legs whenever they were stopped.

 

“Yeah kid?” Hank replied, stopping off at his desk to collect his laptop. He usually left it at the precinct overnight and on his days off but he had a feeling he’d need it over the next few weeks. He lifted Connor into the chair at the desk just so he wouldn’t fall if he leaned on something too unsteady.

 

“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you problems.” Came the mumbled reply, and Hank looked up to see Connor staring down at his lap as if ashamed. “Professor Stern always- always said I could be difficult, and that it was embarrassing-”

 

“Hey, no.” Hank kneeled by the chair, placing his hands on the armrests. “Connor, look at me.”

 

Connor glanced up through his slightly wavy fringe that had previously been brushed back.

 

“You’re not causing me any problems, you hear? That fight? That was Reed’s- and, uh, kinda my- fault. He’s an ass who doesn’t know when to shut up and I, uh… I can lash out. I guess.” He shrugged a little uncomfortably. “Point is, it’s not your fault. And you can forget whatever Stern said, you might as well be listening to FOX.”

 

Connor’s face creased a little in confusion as he looked at Hank.

  
“What fox?”

 

“TV channel. Don’t believe anything they say.” Hank replied, picking up his laptop and going to stand. “You ready to head home?”

 

Connor nodded, although he looked a few seconds away from falling asleep. The emotional turmoil and excitement from the last two days were having an effect, Hank realised as the boy went to shuffle off the chair.

 

“C’mere.” He said unusually quietly, putting his hands under Connor’s armpits and lifting him up. He shifted an arm to under Connor’s legs and immediately felt the boy relax against him, head resting against his neck. With his laptop in one hand and Connor in his arms he left the precinct, adamantly ignoring the stares of anyone who cared enough to look.

 

He made a mental note to buy Connor a car seat at some point as he did up Connor’s seatbelt, the kid was way too small to be riding without one. He then got into the driver’s seat, leaning over and cushioning Connor’s head against the car door with his coat before starting up the car and driving off.

 

When they reached the house Hank cut the engine and leaned back in his seat, running his hands over his face and letting himself just breath for a moment. Was this such a good idea? He’d known Connor for less than two days and was already offering to adopt him, to help him recover from whatever Stern subjected him to- the extent of which he didn’t even know yet.

 

But yet somehow, even with all the doubts, he was certain that it was the right thing to do. He hadn’t been sober for this long in a long time, hell, he hadn’t felt this _alive_ in a long time. And the way Connor acted, how he’d started so unsure and afraid and now looked at him with such awe… he couldn’t give the kid up to a foster system that was barely coping as it was.

 

Mind made up, he got out of the car and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door slowly, making sure Connor wasn’t leaning too far out before unbuckling his seatbelt and picking him up.

 

Connor woke up slightly as he was moved, blinking his eyes open and looking around.

 

“Hank?” He asked in a quiet voice, rubbing one eye.

 

“Yeah kiddo?” Hank replied equally as quietly, closing the car door and going to unlock the house.

 

He only got a hum in reply as Connor laid his head on his shoulder, apparently content with the realisation that Hank was there.

 

Hank could faintly feel his heart do something weird at the thought that just his presence comforted the boy but adamantly ignored it as he entered the house. As he shut the front door behind them, Sumo entered from the kitchen and wagged his tail.

 

“Hey Sumo.” Hank greeted him quietly, reaching down to pet him. He was suddenly struck by a memory from so long ago of a very similar situation- carrying Cole back from a soccer game, the boy muddy and exhausted and fast asleep in his arms, a much smaller Sumo greeting them at the door. Hank swallowed harshly, blinking away moisture before heading down the hallway to his room.

 

The bed was as it had been that morning- Connor had made it presentable after breakfast, laying Finley the shark between the slightly flat pillows at the head and half-covering him with the duvet. It must have been a habit from the memories of his mom, Hank thought, as there was no way Stern would have encouraged any such comforting behaviour.

 

Pushing away those thoughts, Hank pulled the duvet back before gently laying Connor down on the bed. He considered waking the boy to get him changed into pyjamas but deciding against it, reasoning that Connor at least needed a nap after such an exciting few days. He pulled the duvet up to Connor’s chest and placed the toy shark just next to him, pausing for a moment before gently ruffling Connor’s hair and going to head out of the room. He turned to see Sumo sitting in the doorway, looking at him expectantly.

 

Hank huffed a short laugh, motioning to the bed.

  
“Go on, up.” He instructed, watching as the dog clambered up onto the bed and flopped down at Connor’s feet. “Sap.”

 

He pulled the door to, leaving it open a few inches in case Sumo wanted out or Connor couldn’t hear him, before approaching the other bedroom.

 

For a good few minutes he just stood there, looking at the door and willing himself to just move, just touch the door, enter the room.

 

There was something stopping him though, as he looked at the hanging plaque that still read ‘Cole’ on the side of the sign facing the door. He’d flipped it so long ago, not able to bring himself to remove it but not able to look at it either.

 

A shuffle from down the corridor tore his eyes away and he froze for a moment, listening intently for anything more but nothing came. Thinking of Connor- of his trust, of his own promise to help the boy- was what spurred him on.

 

For the first time in years, years he’d forced himself to stop counting, he stepped forward and his fingertips made contact with the cold door handle. He inhaled shakily, closing his hand around the handle and twisting it, hearing the latch seeming to scrape loudly against the door frame.

 

It felt like it took an eternity to open.

 

The door creaked a little on its hinges from disuse as it opened, coming to a quiet rest as Hank took a small step forward, then another, into the room. It was just beginning to get dark outside, the light from the streetlamp filtering through the sun-bleached soccer curtains hanging by the window, still drawn. The room itself looked exactly the same as it had the last time Hank stepped foot in it- kitted out for a child, but still so empty. The closet and drawers were empty, the bed stripped of everything but a striped fleece blanket and a crumpled pillow, only a shelf above the bed holding a few of Cole’s prized toys remained.

 

The only traces of his son in the room.

 

Hank didn’t know what to feel.

 

He flicked on the light, blinking a little as the bulb shone for the first time in years through a layer of dust, and approached the bed. He looked up at the shelf, reaching up and picking up one of the toys. He’d gotten it for Cole at some local match he’d taken the boy to, maybe two years before he died. The kid had loved it, carting it everywhere and showing it off to everyone he could get to listen. It was a bear, small in Hank’s hands but perfect in his son’s, with a stripey scarf and a lopsided smile. One of his eyes was still handing by a thread from where it had caught on something, Hank couldn’t remember what.

 

He suddenly sat down heavily on the small bed, feeling it creak under him. Looking around, he suddenly realised how empty it felt. How truly _gone_ Cole was. It was almost as if by keeping the room the same way he had it it was almost like keeping Cole there with him, but there wasn’t anything.

 

Only the bear.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hank whispered, bringing it to his chest and ducking his head to press his nose into the plush fur. “I’m so sorry.”

 

It was quiet. So quiet.

 

“I miss you so much,” He continued, clenching his eyes shut. “Every damn day. Every time I see kids in the park playing soccer, it’s like you’re there. But I know.”

 

He exhaled and sat up, holding the bear a few inches away and looking down at it. It smiled up at him.

 

“I thought- I thought that was it, after you- after you were gone. But,” Hank gave another shuddering exhale. “God, you’d think I was so stupid. You never gave up, not like your old man.” He moved one hand to roughly scrub at his watering eyes, soon moving back to hold the bear. “I don’t… I couldn’t replace you, Cole. I could never replace you.” A moment of silence. “You’d like him. Connor. Christ, you probably would’ve brought him home from the park and asked to adopt him.” Hank gave a watery laugh, not bothering to wipe his eyes as they started running.

 

“ _ _There is still stuff out there for you,”__ _Traci had said that night at the bar._ _ _“You’ve just gotta find it.”__

 

“You wouldn’t mind. I know you wouldn’t.” Hank said quietly, thumb stroking the bear lightly.

 

~*~*~

 

“ _Dad?”_

 

“ _Yeah buddy?” Hank looked down at Cole as they walked by the park, ice-creams in hand. The local soccer match had finished over an hour ago but Cole loved the park, and the ice-cream was well-deserved._

 

“ _Why don’t I have a mom?” Cole asked, watching a nearby couple as they lifted their toddler between them, swinging the tiny child gently._

 

_Hank glanced at them, sighing quietly. He’d known the question was going to come at some point._

 

“ _A lot of people, uh, like to be with someone when they have a kid.” Why did four year-olds have to question everything?_

 

“ _Why?”_

 

_Hank shrugged, looking around the park. Nearby a young woman was sitting on a picnic blanket with a child around Cole’s age, wiping around the kid’s face with a tissue._

 

“ _Eh… beats me.” He shrugged, looking back at his son. “Do you want one?”_

 

 _He had a moment of ‘_ Shit, what if he says he does?’ _before Cole shook his head._

 

“ _No. I don’t need one.” He looked up at Hank with a gap-toothed grin, ice-cream smeared on his cheek. “I have you!”_

 

_Hank grinned back at him, leaning over and scooping him up._

 

“ _Damn right.” He ruffled Cole’s hair, earning himself a laugh. “We don’t need anyone else.”_

 

_He set Cole down a few minutes later when the boy started wiggling restlessly, holding his hand as they looked around the park._

 

“ _Can I have a little brother instead?”_

 

_Hank choked on his ice-cream._

 

~*~*~

 

Hank nearly jumped out of his skin when something cold and wet pressed against his arm. He raised his head from his palm to see Sumo, sitting next to him with his head tilted.

 

“Hey Sumo.” Hank croaked, clearing his throat and putting out a hand to pet the dog.

 

Sumo huffed, shifting around and slumping his weight against Hank’s leg.

 

“Connor okay?” Hank asked, watching the dog’s baleful eyes turn to him. Sumo just blinked, laying his chin on Hank’s knee.

 

A corner of Hank’s mouth twitched up in a smile as he moved his hand to scratch under Sumo’s ears.

 

“Good boy.” He whispered, leaning down to press his face against Sumo’s fur for a moment. The dog let him, watching as Hank forced himself to stand. “Okay. Guess I… I gotta do this.” He nodded to himself, looking down at Sumo who blinked at him again. “Right. Talking to a dog.”

 

It was as if a weight had been lifted from the room, he realised as he took slow steps around. The air, though dusty and a little stale, no longer felt light like it was pressing down, suffocating him every time he went near the room.

 

Under Sumo’s watchful eye, he began by taking the curtains down. After a quick glance he deemed them fit for donation, shaking them out and coughing as the dust rose from the fabric before folding them roughly and placing them on the bed. Next, he looked over the furniture in the room. It was alright furniture, but he had this urge to just… start anew with Connor’s room.

 

It didn’t take long to dismantle the furniture, Hank having plenty of experience with putting things together in his time, and soon enough he had the closet, the chest of drawers and the bed dismantled and sitting in respective piles. Sumo had looked quite offended when Hank had shooed him off the bed to take it apart.

 

He then called Goodwill, thanking his damn lucky stars that they had a collection going on that day and scheduled to pick up the pieces as soon as they were available. Hank wrapped them in large labeled bags and left them on the porch, not particularly wanting to talk to people that day.

 

The few toys from the shelf were moved to top of the bookcase in the lounge, out of reach of both Connor and Sumo.

 

With that, the room was empty. The walls were a medium red, the carpet thick with dust but in good condition. Hank decided against getting the hoover out, he didn’t want to wake Connor from his nap unless it was necessary.

 

Just as he was trying to figure out the next step, his phone vibrated in his pocket and Hank nearly jumped out of his skin. He fumbled with it for a moment, not recognising the number before accepting the call.

 

“’lo?” He said hoarsely, clearing his throat a moment later. The crying and the dust hadn’t been good for his airways.

 

“Is this Lieutenant Anderson?” A vaguely familiar voice came from the phone and Hank frowned, adjusting his grip on it.

 

“Yeah. Who is this?”

 

“Oh- I apologise. It’s Elijah Kamski, I called the precinct and they gave me your personal number.”

 

Hank marginally relaxed.

 

“Oh, right. What can I do for you, Mr Kamski.”

 

There was a moment of silence and Hank could vaguely hear a shuffling noise.

 

“I was contacted this morning about Chloe’s estate. It seems that, even after she broke off contact with me, I was still listed as her next of kin.” He didn’t sound sure on what to feel about that. “I’m currently in her apartment and would rather get everything sorted sooner rather than later. I have taken few days from work but won’t be able to stay away for much longer.”

 

“Right, yeah, that makes sense.” Hank nodded, leaning against the door frame as he looked into the room. “With the next of kin- what happens to Connor?”

 

Another moment of silence.

 

“By all rights, it seems that she wanted me to take on guardianship of him.”

 

Hank felt like something cold, icy and full of dread has stabbed him in the chest.

 

“However,” Elijah continued, unaware. “With my job and my, ah… my lifestyle, shall we say, I am rather unprepared. One of your colleagues, Officer Chen, told me that you had grown fond of him. She seemed to hold you in high regard.”

 

“Yeah?” Hank managed to get out, realising that his hands were trembling slightly.

 

“Mm. He is Chloe’s son, I do count him as my family. My only family I have left.” The man’s voice took on a hardened edge all of a sudden. “I intend to do a complete background check on you, detective. I may not be able to care for Connor but if I find you unfit, I will not hesitate to look elsewhere.”

 

Some part of Hank wanted to immediately tell Kamski to fuck himself for near enough threatening him, but somehow felt that it wouldn’t help in this situation.

 

Christ, being sober makes you so clear headed sometimes.

 

“’Course. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” He said instead, his free arm crossing his chest almost defensively.

 

“Good.”

 

Some more silence. Hank was started to get a bit bored of that.

 

“Is there anything else?” He asked, wanting to get this call over with. So much with not having to talk to people today.

 

“Oh yes, of course. I take it you’ve been to Chloe’s flat?”

 

Hank frowned.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“I assumed it would be a part of your investigation.” There was an air of smugness in Kamski’s voice and Hank rolled his eyes. The guy seemed fine to talk to occasionally but he felt that they wouldn’t get along well as friends.

 

“Yeah, I went there. I’ve got her laptop if you want it after it gets cleared from evidence. Connor has her tablet, I think he’d rather keep that.”

 

“Okay. Anyway, as I’m sure you noticed she has a room set up for Connor. I wanted to ask if you wanted the contents before I had the flat cleared.”

 

Hank looked up at the empty room, suddenly feeling like a moron for not thinking of it.

 

“Shit yeah, that’s a good idea.” He stood a little straighter. “Connor’s having a nap right now, I can bring him tonight to collect things.”

 

“Very good. I have taken a few things but nothing I think Connor would be interested in.” That made Hank wonder what the man had taken. “I will leave you to look at what is there. Oh- Lieutenant- Connor used to have a toy shark named Finley. Have you seen it?”

 

Hank glanced down the corridor to Connor’s room, seeing Sumo’s tail vanish as the dog entered.

 

“Yeah, Connor has it now.”

 

“Good. Chloe bought him that, I’m glad that it hasn’t been lost.” Something like sadness entered Kamski’s voice but when he spoke again, it was gone. “Once you have finished in Chloe’s flat, please let me know.”

 

“Will do.” Hank confirmed.

 

“Good.” Kamski paused. “Thank-you, Lieutenant. Although I have lost a friend, I am glad that her work was not in vain.”

 

“Yeah.” Hank replied quietly. “Me too.”  
  
The call ended a moment later and Hank sighed, looking down at the phone in his hand- then nearly jumping in surprise when something grasped his sleeve.

 

“Hank?” Connor looked up at him, his head tilted. Christ, he moved so quietly. “Who were you talking to?”

 

Sumo sat beside the kid, tail thumping on the carpeted floor. Before Hank could reply, Connor noticed the empty room ahead of him.

 

“Why do you have an empty room?” Connor looked up at him again after glancing around.

 

Hank cleared his throat, glad he’d opened the window to let air in.

 

“It was Cole’s.” He replied shortly, watching as Connor froze.

 

“Oh.” He took a few steps backwards until he was standing in the hallway. “I’m sorry.”

 

Frowning, Hank knelt in front of the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“What for?”

 

Connor shrugged, fidgeting his bandaged fingers.

 

“I should have asked before going in there, I didn’t know-”

 

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It hasn’t… it hasn’t been his room for a long time.” He tried a smile but could tell that it didn’t reassure the boy at all. “It needs a lick of paint and some furniture, but I was thinking. I was thinking it could be your room, if you wanted.”

 

Connor’s face seemed to freeze, the blank expression he’d worn before returning as he seemed to process what had been said.

 

“My. My room?” He asked, face creasing in confusion. He looked back at the empty room. “I- why- I don’t understand.”

 

Hank’s knees protested so he sat down on the floor instead, one hand still on Connor’s shoulder.

 

“I’m not sending you back to Stern,” He began, “No way in hell. And your mom didn’t, uh, know many people.”

 

“What about Uncle Elijah?” Connor asked curiously.

 

Hank winced internally, not sure how to explain.

 

“He… he likes you a lot kid, he really does. Okay? But he has a very important, fancy job so he isn’t home a lot. And he probably doesn’t know a lot about kids.”

 

Thankfully, Connor didn’t seem upset. He merely nodded slowly, face doing the strange expression it did when he tried to remember something.

 

“’Your uncle Elijah is very clever but god knows he’s hopeless.’” He said suddenly, as if parroting someone.

 

“Yeah?” Hank replied, slightly perplexed.

 

“Mhmm.” Connor nodded seriously. “My- my mom said that. I think he tried to make dinner and burned it. We had to go help.”

 

Well, it was good to know that even a genius could be shit at something.

 

“Does this mean I’ll… I’ll be staying here?” Connor continued, avoiding Hank’s eyes. In his hands he was clutching Finley, worrying the shark’s fin with his fingertips.

 

“It’s up to you.” Hank replied, although his heartrate had sped up with nerves. “Do you wanna stay?”

 

Connor stayed perfectly still for a moment before nodding shyly, glancing up at Hank as if nervous.

 

“Yeah?” Hank encouraged, with an actual smile.

  
Connor nodded again, harder this time as his face did the thing that Hank had realised meant that he was trying to not cry.

 

“C’mere.” He murmured, pulling Connor closer by the shoulders. The kid went willingly and one small hand reached up to grab at Hank’s shirt for a few moments. The hug didn’t last long before Connor stepped back, discreetly wiping his eyes.

 

“Where will I sleep?” He glanced back at the empty room.

 

Hank followed his gaze, one hand still on Connor’s shoulder.

 

“Well,” He thought for a moment on what exactly he should tell the kid. “Your mom had a flat in the city just for you and her. She’d made you your very own room for when she got you back and it’s all still there.”

 

“She did?” Connor’s eyes were wide and still slightly damp- maybe he shouldn’t be talking about his mom so much? Christ, this was hard.

 

“Damn right she did. So I thought we could go visit and bring back all the things she got you.”

 

Connor nodded, still clutching his shark.

 

“We don’t have to go right away-”

 

“I want to.” Connor interrupted, before his apparent programming from Stern took over. “I- I mean- I don’t- I’m sorry-”

 

“No, don’t do that. Don’t apologise.” Hank replied, ruffling Connor’s hair before standing up. “You wanna do it today, we’ll do it today. You’ve gotta be sure though.”

 

Connor nodded seriously.

 

“I am.”

 

~*~*~

 

The nap seemed too have done Connor the world of good and he was alert while getting ready and during the drive to Chloe’s apartment. The whole trip there, Hank could hear something in his head worrying if it was really a good idea to take Connor to his dead mother’s apartment after three years apart from her, but Connor seemed eager. Not excited exactly, but almost like he _had_ to go.

 

There was a small moving truck outside with two men sitting in the back, sharing a cigarette. They watched as Hank got out of the car before opening the door for Connor and waiting as he clambered out.

 

“You Anderson?” One of the men stood up, flicking the cigarette onto the ground and grinding it down with his heel.

 

“Yeah. You know littering is a public offence?” Hank replied, eyeing the men cautiously.

 

One of them put his hands up placatingly, a small grin on his face.

 

“Fairs. A guy called Kamski called us, said you might want a hand moving furniture. He’s already paid us for a few hours.”

 

Kamski seemed like kind of a dick, but Hank had to admit he had some good ideas.

 

“That was nice of him.” He replied, feeling Connor latch onto his hand. “I’m gonna take the kid up to look around, you guys okay staying down here for a while?”

 

The second man shrugged, taking a drink from a thermos.

 

“Fine with us.”

 

Hank unlocked the door, letting Connor enter first before following. They went up the stairs to Chloe’s apartment and with every step, Connor looked a little more unsure of his decision.

 

“You sure you wanna do this today?” Hank asked before unlocking the door. “We can go home.”

 

Connor shook his head, steeling himself.

 

“Okay.” Hank muttered, unlocking the door and holding it open for Connor to enter.

 

He did so slowly, looking around the small hallway.

 

“I don’t remember this.” He said quietly after a few moments, sounding distinctly disappointed.

 

Hank shrugged behind him, closing the door.

 

“You wouldn’t. Your mom moved a few times since, uh. Since she last saw you.” He took off his shoes by the door, something he didn’t usually bother with in his own home but seemed appropriate here.

 

“Oh.” Was the only reply he got as Connor slowly ventured into the apartment. He glanced at the living room before passing it by, looking up and catching sight of the colourful sign on one of the bedroom doors reading ‘CONNOR’. He swallowed before reaching for the doorknob, just about reaching it and pulling it down to open the door.

 

The room was exactly how Hank had left it- the bed neatly made, all books on the shelves and desk untouched. Connor entered the room very slowly, not touching anything as if he felt he could damage it with a touch.

 

“She made this for me?” He whispered, looking around.

 

“She did. She knew she was close to getting you back, kid.” Hank replied quietly, watching as the boy put a hand on the bed before climbing onto it and looking at the books on the shelf above.

 

He went on to explore the room a little more although he was cautious to touch some things. He came to a halt when he reached the desk and caught sight of the photo of himself and Chloe at the theme park those years ago.

 

“She was trying to get me back.” He said quietly, as if affirming it with himself.

 

Hank said nothing, thinking that Connor wasn’t talking to him.

 

Connor stared at the image for a few minutes as if he was trying to memorise it.

 

“Connor?” Hank said, feeling bad when Connor jumped like he’d forgotten the man was there. “We don’t have to take this stuff. I can get you new things.”

 

Connor shook his head almost violently, so much so that Hank was surprised he wasn’t dizzy when he stopped.

 

“No, I. I want it.” He looked around. “She made it for me.”

 

~*~*~

 

Hank left Connor to look around his room some more, going to the kitchen and having a look at anything Chloe would have bought for the kid that he could take with him. It felt really, _really_ fucking weird going through someone’s stuff with the intention of taking things, but Chloe seemed like the kind of person who would but things she knew would be wanted and used. There was a few items definitely meant for a kid in the kitchen which he collected, including a few plastic cups and mugs that he knew from experience were helpful. Some kids definitely had problems holding real breakable cups and although Connor had been fine so far, he knew it was better to be careful.

 

Connor wasn’t in his room by the time Hank had finished and he frowned, turning and realising a nearby door that had before been shut was now open. He approached and tapped on it a few times before opening it, revealing what must have been Chloe’s room. It was far more lived-in than Connor’s- the duvet was slightly rumpled, one of the cushions laying length-ways, giving the impression that she likely lay against it at night. A dresser in the room had a few things scattered across it. A photo was on the nightstand of Chloe in a hospital gown, holding a tiny Connor and smiling like the sun.

 

Connor was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding something in his hands. At first glance Hank thought it was Finley but he realised the colours were wrong- Connor’s shark was navy and white with spots, the one Connor was holding was a light blue.

 

“Connor? What you got there?” Hank asked, stepping into the room.

 

“’We should get matching ones. Then they can be friends.’” Connor said in a monotone voice, face blank. “’They can look after eachother, just like we do.’”

 

Hank sighed quietly, stepping forward and sitting beside Connor.

 

“Is that what your mom said?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

 

Connor nodded, still staring at the shark in his hands. Hank put an arm around his shoulders, feeling the kid relax slightly against his side. He could already tell that Connor was either going to be exhausted or subdued tonight, and he couldn’t blame him.

 

“Kid, I’m gonna go pack a few things. Do you wanna stay in here?”

 

Connor nodded again.

 

“Okay. The moving guys are gonna come in soon, shut the door if you wanna.” He suddenly wished they’d brought Sumo with them but at least they weren’t too far away from home.

 

It didn’t take long for Hank to clear the contents of the small chest of drawers that held some articles of clothing more or less in Connor’s size. Chloe had certainly known what her kid liked, Hank could immediately imagine Connor picking them all out at the store. He stripped the bed too, bundling everything into a backpack he’d found in the closet.

 

As he went to exit the room he caught sight of the framed photograph on the small desk. He paused, picking it up and looking at Chloe and Connor’s smiling faces.

 

“You’ve got a great kid.” He whispered, looking at Chloe. A few seconds passed before he put the frame in the bag and exiting the flat. After putting the bag in the car he let the moving guys know that they were done before leading them up to the apartment.

 

The moving guys- who Hank found out were called Phil and Ted- were fast and efficient, moving the items of furniture from Connor’s room down to their truck without disturbing Connor or the neighbours.

 

Connor, for his part, stayed in his mom’s room while it was happening. Hank checked on him a few times and found him curled up on the bed, holding the toy shark in his hands and just looking at it. Hank asked if he was alright every time he checked but Connor just nodded, not looking away.

 

Hank gave his front door key to Phil, reasoning that he didn’t have anything in the house worth stealing, he and Connor would be right behind them and Sumo (although he wasn’t a guard dog) was a good deterrent. While the men went to drive back to Hank’s, the Lieutenant himself sat next to Connor.

 

“Ready to go, son?” He asked, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. The kid slowly sat up, holding the shark to his chest, and nodded slightly. His brown eyes found the picture on the nightstand and he reached for it before shuffling off the bed. With his hands occupied he couldn’t hang off Hank the way he had been doing but he stayed close behind, almost walking into the man whenever he stopped to open a door.

 

When they got back to the house, Phil and Ted had already halfway finished moving everything inside to his relief. Sumo seemed to pick up on Connor’s sullen mood and followed him to the lounge, where the kid climbed onto the sofa and laid down. The dog quickly followed, flopping down on the couch with a huff.

 

Hank watched him, feeling an almost physical pain in his chest at the almost vacant expression of Connor’s face. He knew that behind that mask was a confused, sad and upset little boy who’d been flung from one rigid three-year-long experience with no freedom or choices whatsoever, to a whole new world where he was _allowed_ to think and feel for himself, where the woman who he still remembered as his mother was gone and he knew next to no-one.

 

It was going to be one hell of an adjustment, Hank knew. Even aside from leaving Stern’s rigid routine, he had no idea how Connor was going to react to other children when he started school, or even if he could start school any time soon.

 

“Is he okay?” Phil appeared behind his shoulder and Hank fought back a curse. He’d had enough surprises for the day.

 

“Yeah, just tired.” Hank shrugged, tearing his eyes away from Connor.

 

“Everything’s moved in, we’ll leave it up to you to move it around how you want it.” The man glanced back at Connor on the couch. “Hey, uh… I don’t wanna overstep, but my kid lost her mom a few years back too. He’ll be okay, it’s just a hard and confusing time.”

 

“How did you know he lost his mom?” Hank stepped back slightly, immediately suspicious.

 

“That Kamski guy mentioned the apartment was his friend’s and she died, and that her kid was coming to get some stuff. Kinda strange guy.”

 

“You can say that again.” Hank muttered before softening slightly. “Thanks. Kid’s had a rough few days.”

 

Paul nodded, looking solemn for a second before straightening up.

 

“If that’s everything then we’re gonna get going. Kamski already paid us for the day.”

 

“Sure. Thanks for your help.” Hank shook Phil’s hand when it was offered and said goodbye to Ted as they left, before returning to Connor and crouching by the couch. “Kid? I’m gonna make us some food. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” The boy nodded slightly, not looking at him. One of his hands had found its way to Sumo’s fur. “You okay?”

 

Connor nodded again, eyes glancing up to meet Hank’s.

 

“’m okay.” He mumbled, looking away again.

 

Hank decided that was probably the best he was going to get and made for the kitchen, just as he realised his fridge was next to empty. He muttered a curse, looking in a few cupboards before admitting defeat and fetching a pile of takeout menus from a drawer. As he sifted through them he tried to guess what Connor would like but came up empty, having no idea what Stern would have likely fed him- if she fed him at all. He ended up choosing his favourite burger joint that had started delivering recently, which was likely a part of the reason his doctor looked at him disapprovingly when talking about his diet.

 

“We’ve gotta go food shopping tomorrow,” He said aloud, glancing at the back of the couch for any reaction. “I’ll put a list on the fridge, add anything you want.”

 

This time there was a small hum from the other side of the couch and Hank shrugged, taking it as an answer. He took the time to heave his ancient vacuum cleaner from a closet and dragged it around Cole’s- _Connor’s_ room, heaving bits of furniture out of the way so he could clean under everything. The moving guys had put everything against the walls which was at least helpful.

 

When he returned to the living room he was surprised to see that Connor had moved. He was now standing in front of the bookcase against the wall, looking up at it with a blank expression. Sumo was sitting next to him, watching the boy.

 

“Connor? You okay?” It seemed to break the kid out of his trance and he looked over.

 

“Those weren’t there before.” He pointed up to Cole’s toys that Hank had put there that afternoon.

 

Hank looked up, catching sight of them.

 

“No, they weren’t.” He confirmed, looking down at Connor.

 

“Why are they there?”

 

“They were Cole’s. I didn’t want to put them away.” Hank shrugged, glancing up at them again.

 

Connor looked down at the shark in his hands, then up at the shelf that held the toys. He glanced up at Hank before approaching the armchair that sat next to the bookcase and climbing onto it, then the arm of the chair.

 

“Woah, wait, what are you doing?” Hank exclaimed, immediately worried the kid would slip and hit his head.

 

Connor looked chastised, looking away and not meeting Hank’s eyes.

 

“I- I wanted to put my mom’s shark with his toys. So they can look after eachother.” He said quietly, slowly stepping back onto the chair. “I’m sor-”

 

“Connor, it’s fine. That’s a pretty cool idea, you should have just asked for help first.” Hank shook his head slightly before stepping forward and picking Connor up under his arms. “You ready?”

 

Connor nodded, apparently getting used to being carried around. He was lifted to the shelf’s height and very carefully placed the light blue shark next to the bear, making sure it wouldn’t fall off before nodding again.

 

Hank placed him back on the chair, looking up at the toys.

 

“Looking good.” He said quietly, feeling something catch in his throat at the sight of the toys sitting together.

 

“’They can look after eachother, just like we do.’” Connor repeated from earlier, his small hand finding Hank’s.

 

“They sure can, kid.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s my new years resolution failed.
> 
> Me: ok then they leave the precinct-  
> galaxy brain: and then Hank carries a sleeping Connor outta the precinct  
> Me: fuckin superb you funky little bastard
> 
> I don’t know how Goodwill works- in the UK if you have furniture too big/awkward to take in yourself, you can arrange for a charity worker to come by in a van and pick it up. Very handy! So I’m hoping it’s like that.  
> Hank hasn’t thrown everything out- some of Cole’s stuff, including photos etc, are in the attic.  
> Hank is in no way healed from losing Cole. He’s still majorly screwed up about it- as you would be – but in sort-of talking to Cole and by seeing and clearing his room, it’s like a weight off his mind. Less like Cole could still be in the room. This sounds weird but in my experience, having someone’s room around when they are no longer here is… really weird. Especially when it’s still full of their stuff, then once it’s empty it’s like they’ve moved… on? Does that make any sense?
> 
> I am considering writing an AU to this AU where Chloe survives but Hank helps her get Connor back. It would be very wholesome and our much loved depressed alcoholic lieutenant would still get help, which will be nice. Let me know if any of you wonderful people would be interested!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic life begins to settle in, involving grocery shopping, movies and a funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I’m back! Still here!
> 
> Woops. As usual, sorry for the wait! Life, y'know? It's wild.

“How about this?”

 

“That’s not very good for you.”

 

“Not go- I know, Connor. A lot of this shit isn’t ‘good for you’, which is why we don’t eat it for every meal.”

 

“I’ve seen you eat fries every day for the last week.”

 

Hank rolled his eyes as he pushed the shopping cart, leaning on the handle as they slowly walked through the grocery store aisle. Connor walked beside him, one hand holding onto the cart so he wouldn’t fall behind or get distracted.

 

Not that there was much danger of that. Once the kid had his mind set on something it was near enough impossible to distract from it.

 

“Yeah, but I’m an adult. I’m allowed to make stupid decisions for myself.” He removed one hand from the cart and ruffled Connor’s hair. “When you’re all grown up you can do it too.”

 

Connor half-heartedly reached up and ran his hands over his hair, trying to flatten it out a little.

 

“I don’t think growing up is a very good idea.” He grumbled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Without the gel Amanda had made him use it usually ended up getting in his face and Hank hadn’t thought to take him to a hairdresser yet.

 

“Eh, it has ups and downs.” Hank shrugged, stopping beside a display of cereal. “How about these?”

 

“Why is there a monkey on the box?”

 

Hank shrugged again, having given up trying to answer questions he didn’t know the answer to. Connor seemed to have a built-in lie detector, which had become evident very quickly.

 

“Dunno. Maybe its the secret ingredient.” He dumped the cereal box in the cart before glancing down at Connor, who looked disturbed. “I’m joking, kid. It’s just a mascot.”

 

Connor didn’t stop sending slightly unnerved glances at the box so Hank ended up backtracking and buying a cereal without a mascot on. He made a mental note that Connor tended to take things way too seriously.

 

~*~*~

 

“How about ice cream?”

 

Connor stared at the sign with multiple flavours on, trying to choose which one to try.

 

“I don’t know.” He replied evenly, trying to figure out what on Earth ‘blue moon’ ice cream was and why it was coloured so violently blue.

 

“You don’t know if you’ve ever had ice cream?” Hank said, sounding exasperated. “Right, we’re fixing this.”

 

“Lieutenant, according to the labels on this, this contains a very high amount of sugar. I wouldn’t-”

 

“Live a little Connor. C’mon.” Hank handed over the money for a small bowl of ice cream he’d ordered with multiple scoops in. “Right, you try a bit of these and we’ll figure out what you like. Okay?”

 

Connor nodded hesitantly, sitting opposite Hank in a small booth of the restaurant. He poked his small plastic spoon into one of the bowls before placing it in his mouth, his expression calculating.

 

“Well?” Hank prompted, taking a mouthful of his own bowl.

 

Connor nodded again, looking down a the treat.

 

“It’s good.” He said quietly taking a small spoonful. “I like it. Thank-you Hank.”

 

Hank gave him a small, slightly sad smile that Connor missed. The kid’s reactions to the simplest things that most kids took for granted hit him every time he saw one, and he was damned if he was going to stop at ice cream. He’d teach Connor how to live again even if he had to re-learn it first.

 

~*~*~

 

_Connor liked the garden._

 

 _He wasn’t really_ supposed _to be out there, especially if Professor Stern wasn’t home. She kept the key in a box that she locked with a passcode, which she thought was secret. It wasn’t very hard to guess though._

 

_It was warm outside, with just a little wind disturbing the quiet peace of the garden occasionally. A lot of the plants outside that had grown flowers were blooming now, which was a phrase he’d learnt from one of the Professor’s books._

 

_Again, he wasn’t supposed to read books without permission, but he figured that as long as the Professor didn’t know then it didn’t matter._

 

_Connor put out a hand and gently touched a dark pink flower that had grown on a bush by the tall fence. He recognised it from one of the books he’d read, knew a little about what it needed to grow and ‘flourish’._

 

_A little further down the garden was a tree that was even taller than the fence- he’d seen it the last time Professor Stern had taken him to an event, although that was a while ago. It was covered in pink blossoms, which he recognised as cherry blossoms from Japan. Sakura, he remembered. It was pretty._

 

_He spent a little more time wandering around the garden, avoiding the small fountain in the centre as it tended to splash a little if he went to close, and he didn’t want Professor Stern to know he’d been out here. A few times he caught himself looking up at the big tree, wondering if he could climb it. He had vague memories of climbing trees from before, but someone had always helped him._

 

_Sometimes he could remember who, and that they’d promised to come back just before they left him with Stern. Sometimes he remembered a flash of blonde hair and the biggest, happiest smile he’d ever seen._

 

_Then it was gone._

 

_He stayed out in the garden for a little longer before going back inside as the sun began to set, knowing the Professor would be home soon. He cleaned off his shoes carefully, setting them in the same position they had been in that morning, before returning to his room and reading one of the books the Professor had chosen for him that week. He’d already read it cover to cover but it at least made him a little less bored._

 

_~*~*~_

 

“ _Connor.”_

 

_Connor jolted awake in bed, eyes snapping open to see Professor Stern standing by the door, holding something in one hand with the other hand on the light switch. The bright light made him wince and as the spots cleared from his vision he realised she was holding his shoes._

 

“ _What were you doing outside?” She asked, voice perfectly level. That was a bad sign._

 

“ _I… I wasn’t outside.” Connor replied, blinking to try to focus his eyes._

 

“ _Oh?” Professor Stern turned the shoes in her hand upside-down so the soles were showing. “I don’t believe you. Try again.”_

 

_Connor’s eyes found the dirt trapped between the grooves on the soles of his shoes and he swallowed nervously._

 

“ _I wanted to see the garden.” He said quietly in a whisper. “The plants are pretty.”_

 

_Amanda stared at him, eyes cold and hard._

 

“ _Connor. You know you are not allowed in the garden.” She approached the bed, grasping Connor’s wrist in a vice-like grip. “However, since you seem to like it so much, I’ll allow it this once.”_

 

_Connor was pulled from the bed, following Professor Stern out of his room and down the stairs to the back door._

 

“ _But it’s night time?” He said quietly, watching her unlock the door. “It’s dark outside.”_

 

“ _Indeed.” The door opened. “But you said you wanted to see the garden, so. Go on.”_

 

_Connor glanced outside before looking at his shoes, still in the Professor’s hand. He reached for them but they were lifted out of his reach. He decided against protesting- he knew she didn’t like it when he talked back._

 

_Taking a step out of the back door, he flinched as his bare foot made contact with the cold tile of the patio._

 

“ _I don’t like to be kept waiting, Connor.” The Professor spoke from behind him, sounding angry._

 

_Connor stepped away from the door, arms wrapping around his chest as the cold wind hit him. It wouldn’t have been that much colder than it had been earlier in the day, but without the sun the temperature had dropped rapidly and he shivered._

 

_The sound of the door sliding shut behind him made him jump and Connor turned, catching a glimpse of Professor Stern’s emotionless face as she drew the curtains behind the screen door. He jolted forwards, shakily banging on the door._

_  
“Pr-professor?” He called, somehow hoping that she’d relent and let him back in._

 

_The light in the kitchen switched off and the patio was plunged into darkness, save for a small motion sensor light directed at the mat._

 

_Connor stared at his dim reflection as he shivered, thoughts racing through his sleep-mugged mind. He took a step back from the door, trying to figure out if he could unlock it from outside, but it was hopeless. He had nothing on him but his pyjamas, and there wasn’t anything outside that he could use._

 

_He was stuck. In the garden, alone, on a cold night._

 

_He didn’t want to see the garden anymore._

 

_~*~*~_

 

“… Lieutenant Anderson?”

 

Hank groaned quietly, bringing one hand up to rub at his eyes.

 

“’s it Cole?” He mumbled, rolling over. His blue eyes met brown and almost an electric shock-like feeling went through him as he realised that it was Connor. “Connor? You okay?”

 

In the almost-dark he could see that Connor was standing almost stock still, his only movement his twitching hands and a slight shiver that went through him every few moments. When he didn’t reply, Hank sat up, frowning.

 

“Connor?”

 

“I’m okay.” Connor replied robotically, eyes darting around the room.

 

“Okay.” There was silence for a few moments. “Okay, no. You’re not okay. What’s wrong?”

 

Connor swallowed, eyes flashing up to meet Hank’s before staring over his shoulder at nothing.

 

“I. I had.” Pause. “It’s- it’s nothing. I’m sorry I disturbed-”

 

“Nope, stop that. Eugh, hang on.” Hank leaned over with a grunt, turning his bedside lamp on. “That’s bet- Christ kid, what happened?”

 

In the dim light he could now clearly see the tear tracks running down Connor’s face, the remains of wiped tears on his cheeks.

 

“I had a nightmare.” He almost missed the barely-there whisper as Connor looked down, seemingly embarrassed.

 

“Oh. Oh Connor,” Hank sighed, sitting back and running a hand through his hair. “C’mere kid.”

 

Connor immediately clambered up onto the bed, still shaking.

 

Putting an arm around him, Hank pulled him to his side and gently ruffled his hair.

 

“You, uh. You wanna talk about it?” He asked gruffly, vaguely remembering a similar situation with Cole many years back.

 

Connor shook his head, gripping his pyjama top tightly in both hands and leaning into Hank’s side so hard that Hank thought he would topple if he moved.

 

“Was it about Stern?”

 

Connor nodded, wiping his nose with one sleeve cuff.

 

“She’s gone, Connor. Okay? I won’t let her near you again.” Hank sighed, giving him a comforting (he hoped) squeeze.

 

“You can’t promise that.” Came a whisper in return, and Hank frowned.

 

“What d’you mean?”

 

“She escaped. She could find me again.” He lifted his head and met Hank’s eyes, his own brimming with tears. “I don’t want to go back there.”

 

Hank felt a surge of protectiveness like he hadn’t felt in a long time.

 

“You won’t, son. I’ll protect you.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, Connor becoming heavier against his side as he slowly fell asleep again. After a while he slumped over, seemingly exhausted, and Hank tucked him into the opposite side of the bed to his own.

 

“I promise, kid.”

 

~*~

 

One of the strangest things about his new home, Connor thought, was the schedules. Or lack of them.

 

At Professor Stern’s house, everything was planned out. He’d wake up at the same time, get washed and dressed, make breakfast for the Professor and then wait for her to wake up. He’d stand by silently as she ate and took her the newspaper when it arrived. She left for work at eight AM, when he’d clean the kitchen and work on whatever she’d planned for him- usually reading or workbooks. She’d return around seven PM, he’d have dinner made for her and then she’d check his work.

 

Whether he got dinner or not depended on what she thought of it.

 

At Hank’s, it was… vastly different.

 

For a start, Hank was incredibly disorganised. From when he got up to when he ate or went out (although he had explained that he was currently suspended for two weeks for punching Detective Reed, which had been apparently very satisfying and _“Worth it kid, that prick had it coming.”_ ) to when he cleaned the house or took Sumo out.

 

It was very confusing to begin with.

 

That morning started with Connor waking up late, which immediately threw him off for the day. Hank apparently had woken up before him and was in the kitchen, standing by the back door with his arms crossed.

 

“Outside, Sumo. Now.”

 

Sumo whined and thumped his tail on the floor, looking outside with sad eyes.

 

Connor’s breath caught in his throat as he remembered the memory from last night. What had Sumo done wrong to be put outside? It wasn’t as dark as it had been that night but it was early and it wasn’t warm out at all. He’d thought that maybe Hank wouldn’t be like the Professor at all, had he been wrong?

 

“C’mon, I’m bored of this. It’s cold, hurry it the fuck up.”

 

“Lieutenant?” Connor said hesitantly, stepping into the room. He flinched slightly as Hank’s eyes turned to him.

 

“Hey Connor. You want breakfast?” Hank asked, rubbing a hand over his face as Sumo whined. “Sumo, come on.”

 

“Um. Why are you punishing Sumo?” Connor continued quietly, fidgeting with his hands in an effort to distract himself from how nervous he was.

 

Hank stared at him with squinted eyes, as if he couldn’t see properly.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s- the garden, it’s a punishment. What did Sumo do?” _‘So I don’t do it too,’_ Connor thought.

 

He’d must’ve stopped focusing for a moment because when he blinked, Hank was crouched in front of him. He startled slightly, unsure as to what the Detective’s facial expression was saying.

 

“What do you mean punishment, Connor?” He asked, surprisingly gently.

 

Connor could tell that he wasn’t used to being gentle anymore.

 

“She- Professor Stern, she. She found out I liked to go into the garden sometimes when she wasn’t there, so- and-”

 

“It’s okay, kid. You can tell me.”

 

“She. She woke me up and said, she said, “S _ince you seem to like it so much, I’ll allow it this once.”_ And.”

 

There was a pause before Hank prompted him quietly.

 

“Connor, did Stern lock you out in the garden?”

 

Hank sounded angry.

 

Connor nodded, head down, unable to meet Hank’s gaze.

 

“I just, I just don’t think Sumo deserves it. Whatever he did, although it’s not dark out now-”

 

“She locked you out there at _night_?!” Hank continued, voice getting louder as he stood up and turned around, throwing his hands in the air. “Jesus, the more I hear about this woman the more I wanna punch her in the-”

 

“Please don’t put Sumo out there! Whatever he did, I’m sure-”

 

“Christ Connor, it’s not a punishment. To Sumo, anyway, he loves the garden. He’s gotta-” Hank looked exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. “Dogs can’t use toilets so they ‘go’ outside, okay? He’s whining because he doesn’t like the rain and doesn’t understand that I _can’t control the weather._ ” He directed the last bit at Sumo, who grumbled quietly. “It’s not a punishment, Connor. And you gotta believe me when I say it will _never_ be a punishment for you.” He crouched in front of the kid again, putting his hands on his small shoulders. “Okay? _Never.”_

 

Connor met his eyes at last, feeling the scared feeling inside him begin to fade.

 

“Okay.”

 

**~*~*~**

 

“… and although dragons aren’t real, there’s more probability that creatures like that exist in the ocean than they would on land. If they hadn’t already evolved into something else, and even if they did then they wouldn’t be able to speak English.”

 

Although he’d been critiquing the movie for close to an hour, Connor’s eyes were seemingly fixed on the TV screen as he ran his hand through Sumo’s fur.

 

“Is that right.” Hank muttered in reply, reading some paperwork that had come through the door that morning from the precinct. Who knew being suspended came with so much work?

 

“Mhm, although perhaps if their vocal systems were more bird-like like the dinosaurs were then they could possibly speak like parrots.”

 

The more Connor opened up and talked, the more his crazy child genius side was showing, Hank was beginning to realise.

 

“So you like the film then?” Hank asked, lifting his eyes from the paper to look over at the kid.

 

“It’s odd but enjoyable. And I like that the girl wants to fight rather than get married to a prince like the others. And I like the griffin.”

 

Hank raised an eyebrow.

  
“The griffin is with the bad guy.”

 

“Yes, but he looks interesting. It’s good that the falcon outwitted him though.”

 

Hank shrugged, taking a mouthful of coffee. He’d found a few kids DVDs in the attic and let Connor choose one, apparently he was content with the selection.

 

Somewhere in-between something about a rock ogre and the two protagonists taking on a sword-armed villain, his phone began to ring. Hank sighed, reaching across the table blindly before his hand found it and pressed ‘answer’.

 

“’lo?” Hank grunted into the phone, holding it between his ear and shoulder as he signed something.

 

“Lieutenant Anderson?” Came the reply, and Hank forced back an eyeroll. Kamski always sounded so smug, no matter what he was saying.

 

“Mr Kamski. What can I do for you?” He asked, standing up and going to the hall to take the conversation away from Connor. The kid hadn’t asked anything more about his ‘Uncle Elijah’ and Hank wasn’t sure whether he should bring it up.

 

“It’s more of a social call this time. In a way.” There was a pause. “I’ve arranged a funeral service for Chloe to take place this weekend. She wasn’t a religious woman so it will be at a local funeral home, and I wanted to see if you and Connor would like to attend.”

 

“Oh. Uh.” Hank glanced into the lounge, where Connor’s eyes were still fixed on the TV. “Yeah, that sounds good. That’s… that’s very good of you.”

 

He could practically hear Kamski’s shrug over the phone.

 

“As I’ve said, she was a good friend of mine. I’ve contacted a few people from our school days- none of which have had any contact with Professor Stern, I have assured- and I have several members of a private security firm to keep an eye out in case she has contacted anyone.”

 

“You’ve really thought this through, huh.” Hank replied, leaning against the wall. “Good idea though. You sure you want Connor to come? I thought you were… ‘uneasy’?”

 

There was another pause, a small shuffling sound.

 

“I find it difficult to describe how I feel about this situation if I am honest, Lieutenant. However, I know from personal experience that missing out on things such as these does not help in ‘getting over it’.”

 

“I feel that.” Hank mumbled, crossing one of his arms over his chest.

 

“Indeed. I will email you the details, if you could arrive a little early then I would be grateful. I have a few things I need to talk to you about.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

“Lieutenant?”

 

Hank looked up at the quiet call and pushed himself off of the wall.

 

“Connor needs something, I’ll call you back?”

 

“No need, Detective. Just let me know whether you are coming or not, that’s all I need.”

 

The phone line went dead after that and Hank shoved the phone into his pocket, entering the lounge.

 

“Yeah kid?”

 

“Um. I was going to get more water but I think Sumo’s asleep and now I can’t move.” Connor looked genuinely conflicted about the massive pile of dog snoring on his lap and Hank fought a smile.

 

“Yeah, he does that. Just shove him off, he’ll be fine.” He approached the sofa and wedged an arm under Sumo’s chest, lifting him off of Connor’s lap so the boy could escape.

 

“Thank-you lieutenant.” Connor said politely as he entered the kitchen.

 

Hank watched him go, thinking about the phone call.

 

~*~*~

 

There was a special kind of dread that was reserved for going to funerals, Hank had realised over the years.

 

His own parents had died a few years before Hank had adopted Cole- his mom passing quietly in her sleep and his dad following a few months later, seemingly unable to live without her. He, as their only kid, had sorted everything out for both of them by himself.

 

And then he’d done the same for Cole.

 

He’d almost forgotten what it was like to go to a funeral service without having had to organise it and talk to people he knew but only a little then immediately want to escape to a bar and drink himself half blind. But the dread never changed.

 

“What should I do?”

 

Hank was brought out of his thoughts as Connor spoke, and he looked down at the kid in the seat next to him. He’d gone out and bought Connor a booster seat a few days before, the anxiety over the tiny kid being unprotected in the seat having mounted quickly.

 

“At a funeral? You just… you just _do_. Sit quietly when people are talking, put up with people trying to talk to you, wait for it to be over.” Hank pulled up outside the funeral home, looking up at the building. “If you wanna leave at any time, just tell me. Okay?”

 

Connor nodded solemnly, looking down at the shark in his hands. Hank had caught him that morning in his room, staring at it as if trying to decide something.

 

“ _Whatcha got there Connor?”_

 

“ _I- nothing. It’s nothing.” Connor had said, sliding off the bed and leaving the shark on top of the duvet._

 

“ _You sure?” Hank asked, trying to do up one of his shirt cuffs with one hand._

 

“ _Mhm.” The boy hummed in agreement, shifting in his suit. They’d gone to a clothes store a few days earlier and chosen Connor a new suit- one that he actually liked, not like the starched black mini-tuxedo’s that Stern had forced him into for events. He’d chosen a dark grey one with some black, white and blue lines etched over it, colours that he’d chosen for a lot of his regular clothes too._

 

“ _You wanna bring Finley?” Hank pointed at the shark, still fiddling with his cuff button._

 

_Connor’s eyes widened in surprise and he glanced back at the toy._

 

“ _Can I?” He breathed, looking back at Hank._

 

“’ _course. We’ve gotta leave in a few minutes though, okay?”_

 

_The kid nodded rapidly, grabbing the toy before going to stand by the front door._

 

“You ready to go in?” Hank prompted, looking up at the building through the car window.

 

Connor nodded solemnly, unbuckling his seatbelt and waiting for Hank to exit the car before copying him. He waited for Hank to join him on the pavement before quietly slipping his hand into Hank’s without looking at him.

 

They entered through the front doors of the building, Connor sticking close to Hank’s legs as they walked forward. Hank kept a reassuring hold on Connor’s hand, glancing down every so often to check on him as he looked out for Kamski.

 

“… so sad, so sad what happened. Oh- oh my god, is that Connor?” A woman’s voice caught Hank’s attention and he turned to see a woman standing nearby with two men. “Connor, you’ve grown so much!”

 

She approached and crouched next to the kid, who stepped backwards into Hank’s legs. His grip on the man’s hand tightened and Hank looked at the newcomer flatly. Surely if a kid backed away from you, you’d get the message and back the fuck off?

 

The woman did not.

 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry to hear about your mom. We all really liked her, we were so worried when she left college.” She continued, voice dripping with sympathy. She then reached a hand out to lay on Connor’s shoulder, who swiftly dodged it.

 

“Hey,” Hank intervened that time, guiding Connor to stand beside him rather than in front. “C’mon, he probably doesn’t remember you. Don’t get so touchy.”

 

The woman looked affronted and opened her mouth to speak, but Connor beat her to it.

 

“I remember her.” He said quietly, eyes moving to her two friends as they joined her with matching sympathetic smiles. “I remember them as well.”

 

“Do you?” One of the men crouched too and Hank rolled his eyes. Talking to the kid like he was a toddler wasn’t going to help them, and Connor was probably only being polite like ‘Professor Stern’ had taught him.

 

“Mhm.” Connor nodded, pointing at the woman in front of him. “You called my mom a whore,”

 

She choked on air.

 

Connor’s hand moved to the crouching man.

 

“You said she shouldn’t be allowed in college with a whining brat,”

 

The man’s face paled.

 

Connor pointed to the standing man.

 

“And you told her she’d never ‘find a man’ with me around.” He finished, dropping his hand. “I remember all of you.”

 

“O-oh.” The woman replied, looking shocked. “Um.”

 

Hank raised an eyebrow at her as she and her friend stood.

 

“Anything else?” He asked gruffly, gently squeezing Connor’s hand. The kid copied him, glancing up. Hank gave him a small smile.

 

The three adults muttered something and shuffled off, looking ashamed.

 

‘ _Fuckin’ good.’_ Hank thought, watching them walk off.

 

“You okay kid?” He asked, looking down at Connor who was looking thoughtful.

 

“What’s a whore?” He replied innocently, looking up.

 

Hank stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” He muttered, then jumped as someone spoke behind him.

 

“I hope he hasn’t learnt that word from you, Lieutenant.”

 

Hank turned to see Kamski approaching, hands linked behind his back. He glanced down at Connor, who was staring at the man with wide eyes.

 

“I’m glad you both made it.” He looked down at the boy, an oddly tight expression on his face. “Connor.”

 

Connor stayed stock still for a few seconds before he let go of Hank’s hand and walked the few paces forwards, wrapping his arms around Kamski’s legs without making a sound.

 

Hank watched him, his hand feeling oddly empty without Connor holding onto it. He watched as Kamski looked down, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them.

 

“I have a few things to talk to you about, Lieutenant.” He began, leaning over slightly to hook his hands under Connor’s arms and picking him up, settling him on his waist. Connor immediately buried his face in the shoulder of Kamski’s suit.

 

It was weird, seeing Kamski with a kid. Really, really weird. Especially seeing him do such a natural action.

 

Hank followed Kamski (and Connor) to a smaller room that had little in other than a table and two plush armchairs. Neither man sat, although Kamski did shift Connor slightly.

 

“As I mentioned, I had some contacts of mine run a few checks on you.” Kamski started, as if it was a totally normal thing to do.

 

Hank grunted in reply, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

 

“You’re an interesting man, Lieutenant. Although a lot of it I did not need to know. Your career history is good, and I spoke to some of your colleagues. They all agree that you are a suitable carer for Connor, except for one who said ‘I wouldn’t trust him with a fucking china cup, are you a moron?’” Kamski deadpanned, looking mildly amused. One of his hands had moved to cover one of Connor’s ears as he swore. “One of your other colleagues- I believe Officer Chen?- then hit him, so I took him as an outlier. They think very highly of you, Lieutenant. At least, most of them do.”

 

Yeah, he’d definitely talked to Reed by the sound of it.

 

“Minus a few warnings and your recent suspension- related to the detective I spoke to, I believe- you have a good track record. Therefore, I am willing to sign Connor’s custody over to you if you are willing to take the responsibility.” Kamski’s eyes were hard as he stared into Hank’s, as if daring him to object.

 

Luckily, Hank had no plans to.

 

“Course. Already said I would, didn’t I?” He replied, not breaking eye contact.

 

Kamski stared for a few more seconds before nodding.

 

“Indeed.” He looked down at the boy in his arms who hadn’t made a noise since he’d been picked up. “Connor. Are you happy with the Lieutenant?”

 

Hank felt a stab of fear as he waited for Connor’s response, but he needn’t have worried. The boy nodded into Kamski’s suit jacket, his bandaged hands fisted in the expensive-looking fabric.

 

“Good. That is all I needed.” Kamski leaned over and gently put Connor down, waiting for the boy to loosen his grip before straightening up. “The funeral proceedings will be starting shortly. You can go get seated, I will likely see you after.” With that, he went to leave the room, pausing at the door. “Oh, one more thing...”

 

Hank turned, expecting some sort of adoption shovel talk, but paused when he saw Kamski’s expression. It was more open than he’d ever seen on the man before and he stood slightly straighter as their eyes met.

 

“I am sorry for your loss, Lieutenant. Truly.” He nodded to Hank and Connor before leaving the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

 

Hank stared at the empty doorway for a few seconds before looking down at Connor. Unlike the overbearing almost false sympathy of the people outside, Kamski’s simple statement felt far truer.

 

“You ready to go out there kid?” He asked, feeling Connor’s hand slip into his again. The boy nodded, looking straight ahead.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.”

 

~*~*~

 

The funeral itself was short, which Hank was grateful for. Connor had sat quietly beside him the whole time, one hand in Hank’s and the other holding onto Finley with a tight grip. His eyes had been glued to Kamski as the man had stepped to the front, next to a large picture of Chloe who was holding toddler-Connor in her arms and beaming at the camera. He’d given a eulogy that was short but- Hank could actually tell this time- had feeling behind it, and he could tell that the man had truly felt for Chloe.

 

After the proceedings were over, Connor had approached the large photo as the rest of the people in the room quietly filed out. He stood in front of it, head tilted as he looked at the picture from his past.

 

“What you thinking kid?” Hank asked quietly, coming to stand just behind him.

 

“I don’t know.” Connor replied, just as quietly. “I- I’ve been remembering things, but I don’t know if they’re real or if they’re just dreams.” One of his small hands touched the photo gently, resting on the image of the snowflake necklace that Chloe was wearing. “I think I remember this.”

 

“I’m not surprised,” Kamski’s voice came from behind them again and Hank managed not to jump. “She wore it every day. I bought it for her when- just after you were born.”

 

Connor turned around sharply, looking up at his uncle.

 

“She used to take it off and let it hang over you, letting you play with it when you were small. I was concerned that it could be a choking hazard, but she was always careful.” Kamski came to a halt just beside Connor. “You have a good memory.”

 

Connor nodded, tearing his eyes from the man to look at the picture.

  
“You should put it to good use.” His hand hesitantly patted Connor on the head for a moment, a look flashing across his face as he realised how _tall_ Connor was now compared to three years ago, before he turned to Hank. “I forgot, there is one more thing you should know.”

 

Hank nodded, honestly having had his fill of talking to people for the day.

 

“As the sole executer of Chloe’s estate, I have listed her property on the market as well as items that you and Connor didn’t take. I plan on putting the proceedings into a trust fund for Connor to access when he is older.” Kamski said matter-of-factly

 

Hank stared at him.

 

“I figured that it may be of help, given your less-than-ideal salary.

 

Aaaand there was the asshole again.

 

“Wow. Thanks.” Hank replied flatly, looking unimpressed.

 

Kamski gave him a thin smile before stepping back.

 

“I will have the details written down for you, although you should know that it is accessible only to Connor and only once he is legally an adult.” Dark eyes bored into Hank’s again. “Have a good evening, Lieutenant. Connor.”

 

“Hey,” Hank called just before Kamski left the room. The man turned back with an eyebrow raised. “If you ever wanna visit or anything, y’know. I think Connor would like it.”

 

The kid himself was still looking at the photo with wide eyes, one hand resting on the image of the necklace.

 

Kamski stared at him for a few seconds before giving a slight nod.

 

“Thank-you, Lieutenant.” Was the only reply before he left, the door swinging shut behind him.

 

Hank sighed, running a hand over his long hair. He then crouched beside Connor, putting an arm over his shoulders and feeling him lean into his side.

 

“You okay kid?” He asked gently, watching as Connor slowly nodded.

 

“I’m okay.” He whispered, taking one last look at the photo before turning his head to face Hank. “I think I would like to go home now.”

 

Hank nodded, gently ruffling Connor’s hair.

 

“Good idea kid. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! It really gave me a kick to finally get this up, at long last.  
> I struggled a fair bit with this so sorry if it's a bit all over the place and time-jumpy, the next chapter should be much more solid! And (probably) the last one!! But not for long, so don't ya'll worry.
> 
> Also a thank-you to the lovelies who confirmed my thoughts about Goodwill in the last chapter! I honestly really appreciate it when people confirm/correct stuff I might be getting wrong :) thanks guys!
> 
> Eagle eyed readers will notice that yet again… I have upped the chapter count. I thought I only had enough for one chapter but then nope and now I have yet another, plus my lil one-shots etc. Hope ya’ll look forward to that! There’s gonna be some more cute kids in the next chapter, I’m sure everyone can guess who!
> 
> Ngl I’ve been to 4 funerals over the past 2 years and that Special Funeral Dread thing is very real. And weird. And my auto at a funeral is to act really cheerful and talk to everyone and a lot of people find that strange, apparently.
> 
> Also the film Connor watches is ‘Quest for Camelot’, which is about a girl who wants to be a knight and gets to team up with a blind hermit to save Camelot from an evil guy voiced by Gary Oldman. It’s a really good film, I recommend it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School, work and friends.

Two weeks could go by very quickly. Sometimes far too quickly.

Admittedly, Hank had gotten a lot done- a lot more than he’d expected, if he was honest- and between the trips to shops, doctors and educating Connor on decent kids movies, the days had just about sped by.

Which was why when he got a text from Ben about returning to work the next day, he muttered a curse and narrowly avoided burning his hand on a pan as he reached over it. Connor had a real thing about his eating habits and he’d begrudgingly agreed that yeah, maybe he should be eating healthier less he die an early death.

It had seemed appealing before. Now, not so much.

“Are you alright Hank?” Connor asked from the table, looking up from where he was colouring something in. He hadn’t quite understood the appeal of colouring books until he’d tried them, and his neat always-inside-the-lines crayon looked almost like it’d been filled in by a computer. A complete opposite to the explosions of colour that Cole used to leave everywhere.

“Yeah, fine.” Hank replied, putting the pan on the back burner and picking his phone up. He’d somehow forgotten that the next day would be his return to work, its importance having fallen behind what else was happening that day.

It was Connor’s first day at school.

The day after the funeral, Hank had started researching into child psychologists. He himself had been to a shrink a few times- a couple after Cole died, before he stopped caring about everything, and once or twice when he’d been under investigation for competence due to alcoholism or whatever- and although Connor had spent the last few years of his life under the care of a (physically and mentally abusive) psychology professor, Hank thought that it could help him. Or at least prepare him for the real world.

IE, school.

Connor seemed to get on well with the woman assigned to him; she was softly spoken and almost always had a gentle smile on her face, almost reminding Hank of Chloe at times. He hadn’t actually been allowed in the sessions, instead waiting outside and reading the crappy magazines that were about ten years out of date. The kid had several sessions with the psychologist and would have more, but for now he’d been cleared to try school.

“If he can’t cope with it or seems overly stressed then don’t force him. We can always find him a private tutor or a place with smaller class numbers if that would help.” She’d said, patting Connor gently on the shoulder as he looked at the ‘No. 1 Patient!’ sticker he’d neatly stuck on his sweater.

“Was that Captain Fowler?” 

Hank blinked out of his thoughts, looking back over to Connor.

“Almost. It was Ben.” He tapped out a quick reply before putting his phone down and turning the oven off. “How’d you know?”

“Your face. You grimaced but you didn’t look annoyed, so it wasn’t Uncle Elijah.” Connor said matter-of-factly, making Hank’s lips twitch up in a smile. The kid didn’t seem bothered that he and his uncle weren’t the best of friends, which was very helpful. “So it was probably about work. You need to go back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Hank raised an eyebrow, impressed at the kid’s detective skills.

“Tomorrow it will have been two weeks since you punched Detective Reed in the face and got suspended. I think.” Connor looked up at the calendar on the wall, now decorated with red marker with reminders of appointments and grocery shops. “Yes. Two weeks.”

“Huh. Well done.” Hank leaned over and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, I’m ‘sposed to go back tomorrow but I forgot. It’s fine, I’ll just make my shift match with your school day.”

Connor shifted in his seat, almost looking nervous.

“If, um. I don’t mind delaying my start to school if it would help.” He avoided Hank’s gaze as the man looked at him.

“You’re nervous, huh?” He asked quietly, moving his hand from Connor’s hair to his shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine kid. School can be pretty scary but it’s fun- you make a few friends, hang out with them, get to learn stuff. You like learning stuff, right?”

Connor hesitated a moment before nodded.

“I’ve never had friends before,” He said in almost a whisper. 

Hank squeezed his shoulder gently, his chest faintly aching for the kid. He’d already missed out on so much.

“You will. You’ll do great.”

Connor nodded seriously, looking back down at his colouring book.

“I’m sure you’re right, Lieutenant.”

~*~*~

“Lieutenant, I’m not sure you’re right anymore.”

Hank held back a snort as he and Connor approached the school, the boy’s hand in his. 

“Yeah? When have I ever not been right?”

“When you put the oven temperature higher saying it would cook that pie faster but it just burned it instead.”

Rolling his eyes, Hank slowed his steps a little.

“That was a cooking mistake, not a life mistake.” Granted, he had made… many ‘life mistakes’ in his time, but most of them were not appropriate to talk about with a six year-old. “C’mon bud. What’s got you not so sure.”

Connor hesitated, looking towards the fence of the school. From their short distance away they could hear the noise of (supposedly) excited children before their normal school day.

“I don’t know how to act around children.” He replied, glancing up at Hank nervously. “Professer Stern never let me talk to any. She said they would bring me down because children are imperfect humans.”

The fuck.

“Okay, we’re gonna go into that later. But first, what do we say about shit Professor Stern says?” Hank asked, gently motioning for Connor to keep walking.

“That it’s bullshit.”

Hank grimaced.

“Okay yeah, that’s what I say. But what do you say?”

Connor looked thoughtful for a second.

“I say she doesn’t know what she’s talking about a lot. She thought that a lot of people are bad and stupid, but I don’t think so. She thought that a lot of the world was ugly.” He looked up then at the tree branches above them on the sidewalk, gently scattering leaves over the ground. “I think it’s pretty.”

“Damn right.” Hank sighed quietly as they reached the gates. “Stern had a twisted view of the world, Connor. People who want perfection usually want it because it’s impossible to find. They get stuck in looking for something they can never have.”

“I think it’s sad.” 

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

The playground came into view and Connor froze for a moment before glancing up at Hank.

“You ready?” Hank prompted, spotting a teacher near the school entrance.

“Yes... I think so.”

~*~*~

Hank stared at his computer screen with glazed eyes, tapping a pen on the corner of his desk. He’d been greeted with a few smiles as he’d entered the office, as well as a few whispers, but he’d ignored them. His mind had been- and still was- on Connor. 

Once they’d reached the school itself, Hank had stayed with the kid as they’d introduced themselves to the teacher, Mrs Phillips, who’d gently explained to them both exactly what awaited Connor inside the school.

“And if there’s any problems then we know how to reach you.” She’d said to Hank, holding her hand out for him to shake. He’d done so, nodding.

Connor had watched him leave, an unreadable expression on his face before he was ushered inside by the teacher.

“Anderson. An-der-son. Hank!”

Hank jerked upright, blinking as his eyes focused on the image of Tina in front of him who had just about slammed a cup of coffee on his desk.

“What?” He replied, sitting straighter.

“What? I had to say your name fifty times to get you to wake up.” She snapped her fingers near his face and he frowned, batting her hand away. “What’s got you so lost in thought?”

“I don’t know, being back here not depressing enough for me to zone out?” He retorted, picking up the coffee and taking a sip.

“Uhuh, right. So it would have nothing to do with your new kid?” Tina raised an eyebrow, leaning on the edge of his desk and staring at him.

“Whatever would give you that idea.” Hank grumbled into the mug, eyes moving to the computer screen with a page on child psychology open on it.

Was Connor okay?

~*~*~

School was… strange.

After Hank had left, he had been taken into one of the classrooms. Mrs Phillips had explained that it was where almost all lessons would take place and gave him a list of what they’d be learning that day. That was at least similar to his previous… arrangement.

Then a loud bell had rang and the other children had come rushing in. They’d all hung their bags up just outside the door- probably under the named hooks that Connor had noticed earlier- and immediately gone to sit in seats. 

Mrs Phillips stood in front of them by the large board, one hand on Connor’s shoulder. He wanted to shrug it off, but didn’t want to be rude.

“Good morning everyone!”

“Good morning Mrs Phillips.” Came the unanimous reply, and Connor fought the urge to step back. There were a lot of people in the classroom, far more than he was used to. He still wasn’t sure about this.

“I hope you’re all ready to learn today! Now before we begin, we have a brand new student joining us! Why don’t you tell everyone your name, sweetheart?”

The hand left his shoulder. Connor marginally relaxed.

“My- my name is Connor.” He introduced himself, remembering when he’d have to do this at fancy parties with Professor Stern.

“How old are you, Connor?” The teacher prompted and he fidgeted slightly, just wanting to go sit somewhere without a bunch of people staring at him.

“I’m six.” He replied, trying to look anywhere but the other students.

“Well done. Now everyone, I expect you all to be very welcoming to our new student. Why don’t you go sit down by the window Connor?” She pointed to an empty seat by the window overlooking the playground. 

Connor nodded, relieved. He made his way to the seat, ignoring the whispers that were going around the classroom and sat down, looking out at the playground and imagining Hank walking through the gates to come get him.

“Now, we’re going to start today with a number worksheet! Star, can you and North hand out these for me please? Make sure everyone gets one.” Mrs Phillips handed two girls at the front of the class a stack of papers, and they began to pass them out.

Connor did a small double take when he looked at them- they were almost perfectly identical. They had the same hair, facial features and clothes, the only differences that one of them looked a bit like… Hank would say ‘dragged through a hedge backwards’, Connor thought. Her hair was a bit tangled and her shorts were a little muddy at the knee, her shoes a bit more scuffed than the other girl’s. He’d read about identical twins in one of Professor Stern’s books that he wasn’t supposed to read but had never seen them before.

“Here you go.” One of the twins said as she put a worksheet on his desk. A small, shy smile was on her face and she moved away quickly. 

“Thank-you.” He replied automatically, averting his eyes when nearby children turned to look at him. He instead turned his attention to the worksheet and frowned- it was laughably easy, he could have done these when he was four. 

Connor lifted his eyes and glanced around the room. Several other children were looking down at the worksheets with confused or annoyed expressions, one boy was trying to hide his inside his desk. Were they finding this hard?

“Has everyone got one?”

There was a murmur around the room and Mrs Phillips smiled.

“Wonderful! Thank-you girls. Now we’ll go over a few ways of figuring these tough problems out, then you can all get into pairs and see how many you can get together. How does that sound?”

Oh.

Connor had already completed half the worksheet.

“So, who remembers the method for number one?”

Connor fidgeted in his seat as the teacher and the other students talked through the methods. He didn’t understand- they were easy, how could they be having such problems with them?

Was there something weird about him? Should he not be able to work these out? 

“Connor, how about you try this one?” The teacher’s voice broke through his thoughts and he looked up, realising she had a projection of the worksheet on the board. That was pretty cool.

“The answer is fifty four.” He replied, glancing at the question.

Everyone stared at him. Had he done something wrong?

He wanted Hank.

“I- yes it is, but… we’re talking about how we get there, Connor.” The teacher replied, trying to not look surprised.

“You just- you just add them together.” Connor replied, not understanding what she was trying to say. Surely the purpose of the worksheet was to answer the questions? 

“Mrs Phillips, he’s already done the worksheet.” Said the girl on the desk next to him, and Connor instinctively covered up the paper with his arms.

“I have not.” He replied, hoping she might believe him. Was there a punishment for misbehaving? Was that allowed?

He didn’t know.

“May I see, Connor?” Mrs Phillips asked, approaching his desk.

‘It’s not like I could stop you.’ Connor thought, moving his arms off of the paper and sitting straight in his chair. There was quiet for a moment before Mrs Phillips put the paper back down.

“That’s very impressive Connor. How about if you help us work them out on the board, I’ll find you one a little harder for later?”

Wait, what?

Connor looked up at the teacher in disbelief to see her smiling at him. It was like the look that Hank gave him when Connor did something he should be ‘proud of’.

“Really?” He asked quietly, forgetting that he ‘shouldn’t talk back to people in authority Connor. It’s rude.’

“Of course. Only if you want it though, you don’t have to.” She reached out to touch his shoulder again and he reflexively flinched back. This time she seemed to notice and pulled her hand away, putting the worksheet back down on the desk. “You just let me know by snack time, okay?”

Connor nodded, looking back down at the worksheet. He’d broken the rules and she hadn’t minded. He hadn’t been punished.

He felt a little more sure about school now.

~*~*~

True to her word, Mrs Phillips had gone out for a few minutes at snack time and returned with a few worksheets from a second grade teacher for him. Connor still found them really very easy compared to what he was used to, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Not on his first day.

The bell rang for lunch time and the children filed out, Connor waiting before most of the class had left before following them at a short distance. He’d felt eyes on him multiple times during class and had heard whispers but did the best to ignore them, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

The playground was… nice. It was small, with a wooden fence around it and the school and a small jungle jim like the one at the park that was covered in kids. A few small benches sat around the main play area and Connor could see several teachers and TA’s sitting on them, observing the children. He looked around for a few moments before spotting a tree a few feet away from one of the benches, casting shade over the soft-looking grass. He approached it, sitting down and leaning against the tree as he looked over the playground. It was nice.

“Hey!”

Someone had approached, coming from the jungle jim. Connor recognised him from class but didn’t know his name, although he was followed by one of the twins he’d seen earlier. He looked up at the boy who’d approached- he was a little taller than Connor, with dark skin and very short hair.

“Hello.” Connor replied, not sure what to say.

“You’re Connor right?” The boy said, not waiting for a reply to continue. “I’m Markus Manfred, I’m six too! This is Star, she’s one of my best friends. She’s a twin.”

The girl- Star- shyly waved at him, ducking her head a little.

“Mrs Phillips said to not bother you but you look kinda lonely over here and I like making new friends, my dad says I’m like a magnet for people. I think that’s a good thing, but-”

“Markus!”

The three children’s heads turned at the shout and Connor realised it was the other twin, marching towards them.

“Where did you go? Now Rupert’s gonna be on the slide forever.” She groaned dramatically, reminding Connor of Sumo when he’d roll over and act like it was the hardest thing ever.

“Me an’ Star wanted to talk to Connor! North, say hi.”

North’s eyes moved to him and Connor felt like she was staring him down.

“Hi.” She turned back to Markus. “Done it. Now come play.”

Markus looked between the two as if trying to decide.

“Um. Connor could come play with us?” Star spoke for the first time, leaning forward a little so they’d hear her quiet voice.

Markus’s face lit up and he nodded, holding a hand out to Connor.

“Great idea! Connor, d’you wanna come play with us?”

Connor looked up at the three, not sure what he really wanted. Hank said that school was about learning and making friends. He was good at learning.

Maybe he should try making friends?

He took Markus’s hand.

~*~*~

Hank bounced on his heels a little as he waited at the school gate, trying to not look too twitchy. He’d spent most of the damn day thinking about Connor; what he was doing, whether he felt safe, scared, bored, whether he should call the school and ask about him.

God, it was just like when Cole started. Although when Cole had started school he’d come home and told Hank quite firmly that ‘School is not my thing, thank-you.’ And had taken some convincing to go back the next day.

He didn’t quite know what to expect from Connor’s first day, the kid who had only had regular contact with one person- a controlling, abusive person- for three years.

Maybe he should have waited a while longer before sending him to school?

He noticed the kids starting to file out of the entrance and wander towards their parents, a few more eager than others. He didn’t see Connor.

Out of nowhere, a blur shot towards him and hit him in the legs, almost pushing him over.

“The fu-” Hank caught himself before the expletive left his mouth, regaining his balance. “Connor?”

Connor had wrapped his arms around Hank’s legs as best he could, face hidden.

“Connor, bud? You okay?” Hank patted him on the shoulder, expecting sobbing or that creepy emotionless mask to be back on the kid’s face again.

He did not expect the wide grin that was revealed when Connor lifted his head, or the excited words coming out of his mouth.

“Hank! School is wonderful! I found the work really easy so Mrs Phillips got me third and fourth grade papers after lunch, and at lunch I was going to sit by myself but Markus came over with North and Star and we made friends and, and North and Star are twins, isn’t that amazing?! And Markus says that I can play with them again tomorrow and his dad might let him bring his drawing stuff because Markus loves drawing, and North says she thinks it’s dumb but I think she actually really likes it.”

The fuck.

Hank stared at the kid, the kid who only a few weeks ago would barely say a word when spoken to, would only reply in straight, concise answers, who only yesterday admitted that he didn’t know how to make friends.

Also, who the hell named their kids North and Star?

“Good day then?” He tried, a smile spreading across his face as Connor bounced on his feet.

“Yes! You were right, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” He grinned widely back, automatically taking one of Hank’s hands. “How was your day, Hank?”

“Uh...” Hank thought of how he’d spent most of the day sitting at his desk and staring at his monitor with glazed eyes. “Yeah, it was good. Quiet though.”

To Hank’s genuine surprise, Connor continued to chat happily most of the way home. The school was pretty much in-between the house and the station so (much to his exasperation) Connor had requested that they walk. 

“… and Rupert knows so much about birds, North says it’s all he talks about and it gets boring but I think it’s really interesting. I don’t understand why she finds it boring, even if he keeps talking about it then it means you’re learning more?”

Hank hummed as he unlocked the front door, shoving a leg between it and the door frame as Sumo appeared on the other side.

“Some people don’t find learning as interesting as you do, kiddo.” He replied, holding Sumo back so Connor could enter without being bowled over. 

“I know that now. I still don’t understand it.” Connor put down his book bag and grinned as Sumo pressed against him, wagging his tail.

Shrugging, Hank went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Since Connor had moved in it was looking a lot less… sad, with actual food on the shelves rather than six packs of beer and old takeout. 

“You wanna pick a movie while I make dinner, kid?” He called, glancing over as Connor and Sumo entered the lounge and hopped up onto the couch.

“Okay.” Connor replied, picking up the remote. He’d only had access to a TV for about a week but already knew the remote better than Hank did. He’d also managed to switch off the Spanish subtitles that sometimes-but-not-always appeared on a few of the channels.

Several hours later found the two on the couch, Hank slouched against one of the arms as Connor sat straight next to him.

“So… they are not hippopotamuses?” The kid still sounded unconvinced.

“Nope. Probably inspired by them, but they’re still Moomins.” Hank replied running a hand over his face. The early start to the day was starting to catch up on him and he found himself almost tempted to grab a beer from the fridge but stopped himself. He knew how easy it was to slip back into old habits and wanted to have a stronger grip on himself for at least a while.

“I… see.” Connor nodded slowly, still watching the screen. He’d yawned a few times but hadn’t expressed the desire to go to bed, so Hank decided it wasn’t the end of the world to let him stay up a little longer. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s an episode with a dragon somewhere, it’s probably on the next disk.” Hank motioned to the DVD case sitting by the TV. “One more episode then bed, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Connor nodded, hands still idly playing with Sumo’s ear. They’d taken the bandages off for good a few days ago, his skin having healed surprisingly quickly. They still had to apply a specific cream for a good few weeks but Connor had told him that it was feeling much better.

Halfway through the next episode, Hank was on the verge of falling asleep when he felt something touch his arm. He blinked and lifted his head from his hand, looking down at Connor.

The kid had finally succumbed to the exhaustion of the day and was slumped over, hand still buried in Sumo’s fur. He’d listed over a little and was now leaning against Hank, a warm weight against his side. A small smile crept onto Hank’s face and he worked his arm out from between them, putting it around Connor’s shoulders instead- for Connor’s comforts sake, of course. 

The kid made a noise in his sleep and shifted slightly, burying his face in Hank’s shirt before going still again.

One more episode couldn’t hurt, right?

Hank was asleep before the credits started to roll, the kid and his- their- dog by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah……… chapter count has changed again. It will end eventually! I just keep going to round it off but then I don’t include everything and then it’s too much to keep in one chapter and the cycle goes on. However I will be starting the AU to this AU where Chloe survives soon, so! I am super excited!!
> 
> Aha! I bet some of ya’ll thought that Connor wouldn’t have a fun time at school. I had to give him something happy though, he’s been deprived of so much. And he is a tiny genius, for he is Connor. I also got halfway through the worksheet scene then realised I went very 'Matilda' on it. (Such a good book tho) 
> 
> Star is a character from my other series ‘Detroit City Highschool’. I’ll warn you though, the chapter featuring her is not a very happy one. She’s based off of the idea of the other WR400 North sees in the snow in-game. I will be writing more about her in this series at some point.  
> I really picture Markus as one of those kids who can make friends with literally anyone and everyone, and the idea of him bounding up to Connor like 'Hello new friend!!' kills me. (Simon and Josh don't go to this school, they will be joining everyone later though.)
> 
> I have recently become low-key obsessed with Moomins, so… Connor now watches it. There is definitely a theme of me quietly making characters I like watch stuff that I also like.


End file.
